


Get It Hot

by fannyvonfabulus



Series: The Sexual Adventures of S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Pussy [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: All the Smut, All the swearing, Blowjobs, Dom/sub elements in later chapters, F/M, I have no shame, Implied Torture, M/M, Phone Sex, Suit Porn, Threesome - F/M/M, gratuitous use of AC/DC song titles, i don't even know any more......, i read too much Clint/Coulson, then had a dream, this is the result
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-11 20:28:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannyvonfabulus/pseuds/fannyvonfabulus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I love my job.  </p><p>Getting to watch one Clint Francis Barton all day on the range at S.H.I.E.L.D. when he’s not out on missions means I love my job.</p><p>And then there's Agent Philip J Coulson.</p><p>In which S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent D. Johnson loves looking at pretty things.  But she loves playing with them even more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I read copious amounts of Clint/Coulson on a Sunday night before bedtime - I end up having the most delicious dreams. And i felt the need to share. 
> 
> I guess this isn't strictly a Clint/Coulson fic and the female character isn't in the Marvel universe (because she's me) but figured I'd tag it as such. If you think that should change, let me know.
> 
> This has ended up in chapters as it kinda got away from me.
> 
> Title taken from the song Get It Hot by AC/DC.

I love my job.  Getting to watch one Clint Francis Barton all day on the range at S.H.I.E.L.D. when he’s not out on missions means I love my job.  The fact that I’m also surrounded by the most high tech weaponry on the planet may be another reason.  And the fact that I get to play with them all day _AND_ get paid for it.  But the main perk of being the Range Supervisor at S.H.I.E.L.D. is getting to watch Barton with his bow on a daily basis.  The beautiful elegance of his motions, like a visual symphony of muscle, grace and deadliness.  He is absolute perfection.

And then there’s Agent Phillip J. Coulson. A man so average looking to the untrained eye that he could just fade into the background, which is pretty much the point.  Years of honing that Everyman persona and it pays off.  Unless you spend a good deal of time watching him on the range during endless target practice or know that under that perfect suit is a body just as deadly as Barton’s, you’d just assume he was an accountant.  But I know that Coulson is an ex-Ranger and all that lean, hard muscle and strength hidden under layers of Dolce are from years of hard fought battles and sacrifices.  He wears an almost permanent smirk, barely noticeable, but the corners of his mouth curve ever so slightly upwards so he looks like the cat that got the cream all the time.  It does things to me, that tiniest of smiles.  Things that are _NOT_ appropriate for a high clearance Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. to be thinking.  Especially not about a senior agent who could quite easily kill me with a paperclip.  The man is a fucking ninja, I know – I’ve seen him sparring with The Black Widow. 

So, every day I’m on the range unless R&D has something they want me and Stark for down in the lower labs.  Yeah, I get to work with Tony Stark too.  Being a weapons expert means I get summoned by R&D whenever they have a new toy for me to play with.  Or if they need my input as well as Stark’s.  Being the former most prolific weapon’s manufacturer means that Stark is the go-to guy for most of S.H.I.E.L.D’s armoury tech.  He doesn’t like doing it and will spend most of his time designing things to protect and defend rather than destroy, but S.H.I.E.L.D. needs weapons too.  That’s where I come in.  I tell them what we need after being out in the field, they call in Stark and he works on making what we already have better, or coming up with something entirely new.  And that will usually involve being shut away in Tony’s workshop for hours coming up with new designs.  Which can be a problem given the fact that it’s Tony Fucking Stark and I ‘m not immune to the ridiculous sex appeal that the man just seems to ooze.  Not that I’d ever act on that.  Miss Potts and one Captain America would have something to say about that.

All this means that I spend the majority of my day surrounded by highly trained, deadly and sexy as fuck agents and superheroes.  And that just results in a near permanent lady boner.  I thank Odin that I’m not a man – a hard on is nigh on impossible to hide in standard issue S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform cargo pants.   Which is another problem.  Standard issue S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform should _NOT_ be sexy.  And it’s not.  But then, nobody else (aside from the Avengers) has had Tony Stark make some adjustments to theirs.  Having to work so closely with him, he’d noticed how much I used to fidget and complain thanks to some god awful tailoring.  So he fixed it.  Now my black cargo trousers were a little tighter than everyone else’s and my tac-vest a little more form fitting and is actually cut for a woman’s body.  Considering I have to wear it all the time when I’m on range duty, it’s a godsend that it’s now so comfortable.  And if anyone has a problem with it, they can take it up with Fury.  Plus, my uniform is made of materials that even R &D isn’t aware of yet.  It’s mine and Tony’s little secret.  And it’s a secret that makes me look damn good, even if I do say so myself. 

So yeah, I spend my days surrounded by gorgeous deadliness and outfitted in bespoke experimental fabrics.  It’s starting to become a problem.  Which is why the shameless flirting with Agent Barton started.  To be fair, he’s just as bad and together we’re unbearable.  We’ve made junior agents blush, squeak and run away with some of the language we use around each other.  It’s downright filthy but frustratingly, never seems to lead anywhere.  And I know the reason why that is (Hawkeye isn’t the only one around HQ that sees everything).  I’ve spent enough time watching Barton and Coulson to know that there’s _definitely_ something going on there.  The way Agent looks at his asset when he thinks no-one can see is obscene.  I’m a firm believer in the fact that if I wasn’t around, Coulson would have Barton stripped and tied to one of the archery targets whilst he fucked him senseless.  And I’m not going to lie – that look makes me wetter than even the sight of Barton’s arms. 

OK, so maybe I’ve got some daddy issues in lusting after a man almost twice my age but seriously, you should see him when he’s tearing a target to pieces with his Glock or sparring with Natasha.  He moves with the grace of a predator stalking its prey, all smooth, slinky lines and hello! Lady boner!   The flirting with Coulson usually falls on deaf ears but it doesn’t mean I haven’t tried.  I even managed to get his mouth to curl into more of a smirk one day with one of my more salactious comments directed at him.  I took that as a small victory but it was short lived when I realised that he probably thinks of me as nothing but a smart arsed, overly horny younger agent.  And they’re two a penny around here.

But Barton is certainly hot for handler, that much I _can_ see.  It’s almost pathetic the puppy dog look Barton gets on his face whenever Coulson leaves the range without him.

What I can’t figure out though is whether or not the pair are actually together or just circling each other.  And no matter how hard I try, I can’t get that information out of anyone.  The only person that would know it Natasha and she’s fucking terrifying.

“What do you reckon to Agent and Barton?” I ask Tony that morning while he works on finishing whatever upgrade to Barton’s bow he’s doing this time.  I’d found my way down to his workshop on a quiet morning at HQ.  Barton and Coulson are both off on a mission somewhere and I’m bored.

“What, Agent Agent?  Thought he was a cyborg?” Tony smirks as he finishes up.  “And with Legolas? I think you’ll find that the Widow has our Hawk caught in her web.  Let’s make this interesting shall we?  50 bucks says they’re not.”

“50 bucks? Thought you were a billionaire.”

“Yeah, but you’re not sooooo……..”

“Fair point,” I answer, mulling it over.  “50 bucks and a bottle of that 50 year old scotch I know you have tucked away somewhere.”

“Hey! My Strathisla is not up for negotiation!”

“Oh Stark, you scared of losing this one?”

Tony’s eyes glint with the challenge and I know he’s not going to turn this one down.

“Fine.  50 bucks and a bottle of Strathisla say that Agent and Barton are totally  _NOT_ doing it.  And whats in it for me?”

“Well, 50 bucks,” I chuckle and Tony glares at me with his arms crossed.  “OK, fine. 50 and I’ll let you have my beloved Bonneville.  I know how much you’ve been wanting to get your hands on her.”

Tony claps his hands in glee at the thought of getting his hands on my classic motorbike.  He’s been bugging me for months about restoring it properly and upgrading a few things on it.  Frankly, he’s been driving me mad with it.

“Deal!” Tony grins and we shake on it.  I’m pretty sure I’m going to win this one but there’s still a chance that I won’t be seeing my bike for a while.  I turn to floating holograms and sigh.  I’m about done for the day and tell Tony so.

“Bar?”

“Bar.”

 

********

 

Mine and Tony’s bet has to wait for 2 weeks after I’m sent to the arse end of nowhere in China that results in me being back at S.H.I.E.L.D. medical for 4 days with bruised ribs, a concussion and a twisted ankle.  It’s another week before I’m signed off to be back on range duty as that mostly involves sitting down in the weapons locker going through paperwork.  Barton saunters in at around noon when everyone else is at lunch and it’s the first time I’ve seen him in almost a month.  He looks good but then when does he never?  Today he’s wearing jeans and t-shirt that somehow make him look even more delicious than his standard issue uniform and he’s got a tan from wherever his last mission had sent him. I have to stop myself from drooling on myself.  Again.

“Yo, Lissy!” He grins at me as he leans on the counter the other side of the gun locker, chin resting on his hands and looking like butter wouldn't melt.  Normally everyone gets called by their last names around HQ but for some reason, Barton finds my name hilarious and Lissy seems to be the abbreviation he’s settled on for today.

“And what can I do for you today Specialist?” I grin back, hobbling off my stool and up to the other side of the counter.  Barton’s brow furrows as he sees me wince a little at the strain in my ankle.  “It’s nothing.  But it’s nice to know you care.”

Barton just winks and we talk about my mission for a bit.  Turns out he’s been to China more than once and proceeds to tell me a hilarious story that involves Coulson, a bowl of what he could only assume was tentacles and 2 days locked in a bathroom.  By the end of it I’m clutching my sides trying not to jostle my healing ribs as I laugh hysterically.

“Ow…. Fuck, stop…… ow…….,” I snort, desperately trying to get my giggling under control.

“Don’t be such a pussy,” Barton sniggers as he watches me clutch my sides.  “I thought S.H.I.E.L.D. built you out of sterner stuff than that!”

“Yeah, but none of that training included having to listen to you and your stories,” I smirk back wiping my eyes on the back of my hand.  “Seriously though, OW.”

“Hey, I’ve got some awesome cream somewhere that will work wonders on the bruises,” Barton says suddenly serious.  “I’ll dig it out for you.  Come up to my floor in the tower tonight and I’ll find it for you.”

“The Tower.  Avengers Tower.  You serious?” I gape a little.  For all the years I’ve been at S.H.I.E.L.D, I’ve never been up to the top floors of the tower.  Stark’s R&D labs are in the basement floors and that’s as far as I’d ever been.  The top floors were for the Avengers and I’d never had reason to go up that far.  Not even to Stark’s personal office on the penthouse floor.

“S’up Lissy? Worried you’re gonna get all star struck?”

“No, I’m just wondering if I’ll catch Captain America wondering around in his underwear,” I snark back and Barton suppresses a giggle.

“Captain America does, believe it or not, have a name Agent Johnson,” says a voice and DAMMIT! How the fuck does Coulson do that?  See? Ninja.

“Of course sir, sorry sir,” I mumble, standing up straight, hissing at the pull on my ribs and trying desperately not to blush.

“Awww Boss, look! You made her blush!” Barton chuckles, flashing his grin at me.

“Agent Johnson does _not_ blush Barton,” Coulson says, rolling his eyes before giving me a wink and what the fuck?  Did Agent just fucking _wink_ at me?

“Barton, Fury wants us both in debrief,” Coulson says calmly before turning his steel grey eyes on me and Jesus _fuck,_ the look in those eyes sends a shiver down my spine.  “And do come up to Agent Barton’s floor later for that cream.  It’ll certainly help.  See you this evening Agent Johnson.”

With a nod, Coulson leaves with Barton trailing along behind him, who stops to briefly throw a filthy smirk at me before they both disappear out the door.

The fuck just happened?


	2. Chapter 2

What to wear, what to wear?  I’m only going over to the tower to get some bruise cream, why the hell am I so nervous and restless?  Oh that’s right. Because I’m about to walk onto hallowed ground.  It’s the fucking _AVENGERS_ for fucks sake.  Seeing them occasionally walking the halls of S.H.I.E.L.D. is different to seeing them on home turf.  And I’m going to see one Agent ‘The Guns’ Barton on an actual personal invite.  So yeah, I’m freaking out a bit here.  I can’t wear anything that looks like I’ve tried too hard but I don’t want to turn up in my uniform.  That makes it look like I came straight from work which makes me look like I just did about 4 hours over time - I want to look casual, not pathetic.  Oh well, go with what feels comfortable I guess.

“And you’ll do perfectly,” I say to my battered old pair of leather trousers.  They’ve seen more rock gigs than I care to remember and they fit like a glove.  They were black but age and wear has faded them to charcoal and they’ve started to fray ever so slightly at the heel.  Sliding them on, I grin as catch a glimpse of my backside in the mirror.  Yeah, definitely the right choice.  Next I reach for my I Heart Hawkeye t-shirt because hey – why the fuck not?  My flatmate and fellow S.H.I.E.L.D. agent  gave it to me as a joke so I’m sure as hell going to wear it into Avengers Tower.  I can pretty much guarantee that Barton will find it hilarious then attempt to steal it from me.  A leather cuff and some eyeliner later and I’m good to go.  Which is, of course, when my flatmate decides to show up.

“What a fucking day,” grunts Darcy as she flops down on my bed, completely uncaring of the pile of discarded outfits strewn across the duvet.  “Pizza.  I want pizza.  Let’s order pizza.”

“Can’t. Going out,” I reply as I run my fingers through my hair, hairbrush lost months ago.  At least using my hands means my hair gets that just-got-out-of-bed look. 

“Out? WOAH! You dug out the Fuck-Me Pants – you’ve got a hot date!”  Darcy bounces up and down on the bed clapping her hands with a huge grin on her face.  “Who is it? Anyone I know? Oooo, is it Reid?  No, Oakley.  No wait – Robinson.  Yeah, definitely Robinson!”

“None of the above.  And it’s not a date,” I laugh at her as she reels off her list of possibles.  “And anyway, if I told you then I’d have to kill you.”

“Fuck you, you’re no fun,” Darcy pouts, folding her arms and flopping backwards on the bed again.  “At least give me a clue.  Just a tiny one.”

I shake my head as I pull on my tatty old combat boots over the support on my bad ankle and give myself a final once over in the mirror.  Not bad.  It doesn’t look like I tried too hard and could quite easily be heading out to club after a flying visit to the tower.  Yeah, good plan.

“Don’t wait up cherry pie,” I blow Darcy a kiss before grabbing my bike jacket and keys.  Darcy sits up and scoots to the edge of the bed to pout at me again.

“Just one teensy-wincey clue? _Pleeeeeeeeease_?”  She’s begging now, never a good sign.  I consider for a moment before grinning.

“CAW CAW MUTHAFUCKER!”

And with that I’m out the door to the sounds of Darcy squealing as she finally gets the reference.

 

*******

Pulling up outside the Tower on my bike 10minutes later and my nerves are back.  Well, it’s more excitement because despite the fact that I’m a trained S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and have helped take down governments and destroy HYDRA cells, I’m still just a Fangirl at heart.

“Keep it together woman, for fucks sake,” I mumble to myself as I lock up the bike and limp my way up the steps to the front door.  It’s all locked up but I’m greeted by JARVIS.

_“Good evening Agent Johnson.  I believe that you’re expected.”_

“Evening J – how’s it hangin’?”  I’m no stranger to JARVIS.  Having to work so closely with Tony means that we’ve struck up quite the friendship. 

 _“A little to the left Agent Johnson.”_   And I have to laugh at that.  The AI has a sense of humour to rival pretty much anyone’s.  It’s just a shame that most people never get to hear it. 

“How many times have I told you to call me DJ?” I say finally when I’ve stopped laughing.

_“That would not be proper Agent Johnson.”_

“At least call me something other than Agent when I’m not here on official duty.”

_“Of course, Miss Johnson.  Now, I believe that you are expected on the communal floor.  If you would like to make your way to the elevator, it will take you straight up.”_

“Thanks J,” I smile as I get into the lift and it starts its accent.

_“You’re most welcome Miss Johnson.”_

The lift doors open and I’m greeted by the sight of most of the Avengers all sitting around the island counter in the kitchen.  I immediately feel as though I’m intruding on something very private.

“Oh hey, sorry.  I can……I can come back later.  I didn’t realise you guys were in the middle of dinner,” I manage to stutter at the collected superheroes.  Smooth D, real smooth.  I catch Barton’s eye and he grins at me.

“Was wondering when you were going to get here,” Barton says as he waves at the empty stool in between himself and Coulson.  “Get that cute butt over here and help yourself.  Steve made lasagne!”

“Hey, I helped,” Tony chipped in looking pretty pleased with himself.

“You grated parmesan Tony,” Captain Rogers said in a deadpan voice and Tony pouted at him.

“And? Grating is helping, right DJ? Help a guy out here!” Tony pleads at me.

“Yes Tony, grating is helping,” I nod sagely, trying to keep a straight face.

“See Cap?  I did help!”  Tony gives the Captain a smug poke in the ribs.

“Fine, you helped,” Cap says, rolling his eyes fondly at Tony before sliding gracefully off his stool to turn and greet me.  “You must be Agent Johnson, pleasure to meet you finally.”

“Captain Rogers, sir,” I say with a nod, standing up straighter and wincing at the pull on my ribs as I ease into parade rest.

“You’re in my kitchen about to eat my lasagne, I think you can call me Steve,” the Captain chuckles and waves a hand at me to stop being so official before offering it for me to shake. 

“Steve,” I say, trying to keep the wonder out of my voice as I take his huge hand in mine.  I can see Tony smirking out the corner of my eye and flip him the bird behind my back.  Letting go of Steve’s hand, I hobble my way around the counter, dropping my jacket on the arm of the couch on the way before slipping onto the stool between Coulson and Barton.  And how is it, I wonder, that the only empty stool around the entire island is the one in between the two men I’ve been lusting after for years now?  My lust addled brain flashes back to the look in Coulson’s eyes on the range earlier and I flush slightly, hoping that no-one can see. 

“Miss Johnson, I take it you know everyone here?” Agent Coulson says from my left and I jump slightly, hissing as it jars my ribs.

“Still sore huh?” Barton frowns at the motion.

“Yeah, a bit,” I grumble, gently clutching my side.

“I could take a look, if you like,” a soft voice says from across the counter.  “Oh, Dr. Banner by the way.”

“Dr. Banner,” I nod my greeting with a smile.

“Bruce, please,” Bruce smiles back, adjusting his glasses on the end of his nose.  “Nice to finally put a face to the name - Tony here has told me all about you.”

“All the bad things of course,” Tony waggles his eyebrows and gets a scowl from Steve

 “Why does that not surprise me?”   I chuckle, still not quite believing that I’m sat where I am.

“And this, of course, is Natasha Romanoff,” Coulson motions with his hand to where The Black Widow is sitting.  I smile nervously at her but she returns the smile with a warm one of her own.

“Nice shirt,” She says and gestures to my t-shirt with her fork.  Which I’m sure she could kill me with in seconds.  I look down at my chest and snigger.

“A present from Darcy,” I grin, turning to Barton.  “Whaddaya think?”

“I think I like,” Barton grins back, nodding in approval before lowering his voice and leaning in a little: “I think I like a lot.”

He leans back again to carry on shovelling lasagne into his mouth whilst I gape at what he just said.  Did he just……? No.  No he didn’t.  He just likes the shirt and I am _NOT_ going to get ridiculously aroused at the dinner table.

A plate of lasagne and salad is slipped in front of me by Steve and everyone gets back to eating.  The conversation flows but I can’t keep track of it seeing as between them, Coulson and Barton seem to be doing their damndest to completely derail any coherent train of thought I may have had.  With very deliberate bumping of their knees against mine, or apparently absentminded brushes of fingers over my arms, I’m driven to distraction.  At one point, Barton actually runs a hand up my thigh.  They both seem determined to render me utterly speechless and horny as fuck.  None of which is helped by the fact that Barton is wearing nothing but sweats and a tank top and Coulson is jacketless and has his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  By the time everyone has finished eating, I’m practically cross eyed with how turned on I am and I’m pretty sure that my face is bright red with the amount of blushing I’m doing.  When I look up, Natasha has a knowing smirk on her face as she looks right at me.

“You OK there Agent?” She drawls, arching an eyebrow at me.

“Yeah, ribs are just sore,” I manage to say, just as Coulson puts a hand on the small of my back. 

“Then it’s a good job that Clint managed to find that cream of his earlier,” the agent says with a smile but doesn’t remove his hand.  Oh god, he’s so warm.  And I can feel the strength in that hand.  “If everyone is alright with us ducking out of clearing the table, shall we go and get it?”

I nod dumbly, Coulson’s hand not leaving my back as he stands.  His hand doesn’t waver as I slide off my own stool, pleased by the fact that my knees don’t just give out from under me.

“Come on then,” Barton says as he hops down of his stool to lead the way.  I stumble slightly as I momentarily forget about my ankle and put too much weight on it.  Coulson catches me with his other hand and christ he’s strong.  With both of his hands on me, images of him holding me down on the bed start to flash across my vision and I have to lean on him as my knees do buckle slightly this time.

“Such a pussy,” Barton sniggers as he comes back to support my other side.  And the word pussy should not sound as good as it does coming out of his mouth.  The mouth that I’ve had all sorts of thoughts about.  And now with Coulson on one side and Barton on the other, I can’t stop the images from coming.  Pictures of the three of us together doing unspeakably filthy and depraved things and a groan sneaks out of my mouth before I can stop it.

“Hey, you OK DJ?” Tony’s voice breaks through the horny fog clouding my mind.

“Yeah, just really sore,” I croak back at him.  Steve is there too, hovering with a concerned look on his face.

“Then you should be lying down, Agent Pussy,” Barton smirks and he really needs to stop saying that word to me when I’m out in public.  Or in the Avenger’s kitchen.

“Uh-huh,” Is all I can manage as the past few weeks suddenly catch up with me.  As well as feeling as turned on as I have ever been, I also feel completely safe.  Safer than I have in a long time but being surrounded by the Avengers will do that to you.  In a sign of complete trust, I sag against Coulson, letting him take most of my weight while Barton supports me from the other side.  I’m very sore, very tired and _VERY_ horny.  Not the world’s best combination, I’ll admit.

“Let’s get her to the bedroom before she falls down,” Coulson says to Barton over the top of my head and then we’re moving.  I can walk, well limp, and they’re happy to let me go under my own steam.  But they both stay close, Coulson occasionally having to put a warm, steady hand around my bicep if my ankle threatens to give out.  We’re in the lift before I know it and Barton gently pushes me back against Coulson’s rather firm chest.

“Remind me to have a word with medical for signing off on you too early,” I feel rather than hear Coulson say behind me as his words rumble through his chest against my back.

“Might have something to do with the fact that she’s worse than me when it comes to medical sir,” Barton smirks but his eyes are full of concern.  He lifts my face to meet his with a finger curled under my chin.  “You OK kiddo?”

“Less of the kiddo, bird brain,” I snipe back, trying not to sag back against Coulson completely and risk rubbing my backside against his crotch.  “I’m only 2 years younger than you.”

“Which still makes you younger than me, _kiddo_ ,” Barton winks at me before letting my chin drop.  The lift stops on Barton’s floor and we all shuffle out.  When we get to the couch, Coulson carefully lowers me onto the cushions before moving off towards what I assume is the bedroom.  Barton carefully drops down on next to me, his eyes full of concern again.

“I’m _fine_ specialist,” I smile weakly at him, resting my head on the back of the sofa with a sigh.  “Just tired and sore.  Maybe bringing the bike tonight was a bad idea.”

“Tomorrow morning you’re going straight back to medical,” Coulson says as he reappears with a first aid kit in one hand and a plain white tub of something in the other.   “I’m not happy about them letting you go so quickly.”

“Honestly, it’s just a few bruised ribs, nothing to worry about,” I hiss as I try to get comfortable.  Barton moves off towards the kitchen while Coulson settles next to me.  His hand hovers over my side as his eyes find mine.

“May I?” He gestures towards my t-shirt and I give him a nod.  He carefully pulls up my shirt to reveal the bandages strapping my ribs and with more care than I would have expected begins to unwind the strapping.  I’m very aware that my t-shirt is now tucked up underneath my breasts as I lay there and his hands are so warm and sure as he goes about his task.  A glass of water and a hand holding a couple of pills appears either side of my head from over the back of the couch and I take both willingly.  The room is silent for a few moments as Coulson slowly reveals the mottled skin at my side and Barton stays leaning over the couch behind me.

“Whats the prognosis Boss?” He asks Coulson eventually and he’s suddenly right there in my ear, so close that I can feel his breath against the skin of my neck.  I have to suppress the urge to shiver.

“Nothing that a bit of bed rest and TLC won’t cure,” Coulson smiles warmly.  A real smile this time and I feel strangely privileged to be seeing it.  It makes the corner of his eyes crinkle and my heart beats a little harder at how fucking sexy that is.  He reaches for the nameless tub and pops the lid.  “This should help take care of the bruising at least.”

“Discovered it during that FUBAR op in Budapest,” Barton says and how the fuck did he manage to get even closer?  Coulson dips his fingers in the cream and starts to gently smooth it over the bruising.  It hurts at first but pretty soon, the gentle sureness of Coulson’s hand against my skin has me boneless within minutes.  It should not feel that good to have hands against bruised and sore skin but it does.  Oh but it does.  Pretty soon I have to stop myself from squirming under his touch and I once again thank the powers that be for being born a woman or this situation would have got embarrassing pretty fast.

“I think she likes that Boss,” Barton murmurs into the skin at the side of my neck and I can definitely feel his lips brushing against me there.  “Nice view too.”

Coulson hums in agreement and what the actual fuck is going on here?

“I think that Agent Johnson should be lying down, don’t you Clint?” Coulson’s voice brings me back to the land of the living.  I feel Barton nod in agreement against the side of my head, his lips ghosting across my skin just under my ear.  This isn’t happening.  I am most definitely not being tended to by the two hottest men in S.H.I.E.L.D.  It’s the painkillers, has to be.  I’m either hallucinating or dreaming and Agent Phil Fucking Coulson is _NOT_ scooping me up in his arms and carrying me bridal style to the bedroom.  I’m laid out on the bed, Barton wedging pillows behind me so that I can get comfortable.

“And you are to stay in our bed until you’re fit to go back to work,” Coulson says a little sternly but there’s warmth in his eyes.

“Wait, _our_ bed?  As in……..?”

“Told you she was smart,” Barton grins as he finishes helping me settle back against the pillows.

“Yes Agent Johnson, Barton and I are together,” Coulson matter-of-factly as he starts to pull off my boots, somehow knowing which ankle is my bad one.  Peeling off the support brace, he reaches for the tub that Barton hands him and starts to rub cream in there too.  “It’s not something we advertise but yes, we’re together.”

“How long?” I ask, trying not to moan at how good Coulson’s hands feel on my ankle.

“About 5 years,” Barton chimes in as he stretches out on the bed next to me, all taught muscle, ruffled hair and big blue-green eyes.

“Then Tony owes me 50 bucks and a bottle of very expensive whisky,” I chuckle a little smugly.

“Would you care to share that whisky, Agent Johnson?” Coulson asks, a twinkle in his eyes.

“That depends,” I shoot back, my eyes going dark and a predatory grin starting to stretch across my face.  “And I think you can call me DJ now, seeing as how I’m currently in your bed.”

“And you look fucking good in it too,” Barton almost growls at me from off to the side as he rolls closer to me, pressed to my side from feet to shoulder.

“I think we need to wait until DJ here has healed up a bit before we go propositioning her,” Coulson chides gently but doesn’t break eye contact with me.  I’m suddenly his sole focus, his steel grey eyes locking with mine and this time I can’t suppress the shiver that runs through my entire body.

“I’m sorry, what?” I managed to force out, my voice a little raspy to my ears.

“Agent Barton here has taken quite a shine to you,” Coulson’s voice has dipped lower has he continues to work magic with his hands.  “As have I.”

“And?”

“And we wanted to ask you to come get jiggy with us,” Barton says simply before he moves to slowly press his face into the side of my neck and inhale deeply.  I can’t help but giggle at the way he phrases it and at the same time, an involuntary shiver works its way through my body again.  Coulson rolls his eyes fondly at Barton at his words but then he turns his gaze on me again.

“So, what do you say DJ?” He asks, his hands stilling on my ankle.  I swallow thickly, unable to tear my eyes away from him and rendered completely speechless by the things Barton is doing to my neck.

“Yeah.  Just……. _fuck_ yeah,” I laugh breathily and Coulson’s warm grin turns into something much more predatory.  Barton grins against my neck before scraping his teeth against my pulse.  A small whimper escapes my lips at that and I can’t help leaning into his teeth.

“But not just yet,” Coulson purrs, his fingers lingering against the skin of my ankles.

“But Boss, she wore leather pants,” Clint whines against my neck.  “ _LEATHER PANTS_!”

“I’m actually pretty sore,” I confess, desperately turned on but my body is starting to protest and I can feel sleep pulling at the corners of my brain that are still functioning.

“Then you need to rest,” Coulson says decisively and gets up off the bed. 

“A little help?” I pout, pointing at my trousers and Barton pulls away from my neck to grin at me again.  He starts unbuttoning my trousers and if I wasn’t so tired and in pain, I’d be writhing already but I just don’t have it in me.  I blame it on getting old.  Clint’s arms flex as he lifts my hips off the bed for Coulson to gently pull my trousers down and off.  He folds them over the back of a chair in the corner as Clint pulls the covers up over me.  He strips off his vest and slides into bed next to me, his face turning into to the juncture of my neck and shoulder again.  He gingerly throws a leg over mine and lets a hand rest on my hip.  Coulson disappears into the bathroom and comes back out a little while later wearing nothing but blue sleep pants.  My mouth goes dry at the sight of him, all solid muscle and a patchwork of scars.

“Jesus _fuck_ ,” I mutter as my eyes follow him hungrily across the room and he slides into bed on my other side, pressing as close as he dares given my ribs.  He chuckles, deep and rusty.

“Phil will do just fine.”


	3. Chapter 3

Waking up and I’m warm. Much warmer than I usually am. And the bed feels strange, not my usual slightly lumpy mattress. My ribs hurt and I fidget a bit to get more comfortable. I freeze when there’s movement to my right, then it all comes flooding back, closely followed by the smuggest grin I’ve ever had. Rolling my head to the left, I’m met with the sleeping and crumbled face of one Agent Phil Coulson. He’s huddled as close as he can get without hurting my damaged ribs on that side and he’s kicking out heat like a furnace. In sleep I could almost call him adorable. And that’s exactly what he is. His usual Agent face is slack and he looks about 10 years younger. Gone are most of the worry lines and instead he looks utterly peaceful, rested and content. And that trademark slight smirk is still there, even in sleep.

Turning my head back to the right and my breath catches in my throat. If I thought that Coulson was adorable when he was asleep, that’s nothing compared to a sleeping Barton. He’s breathtaking. If Coulson looks 10 years younger, then Barton looks younger still. His eyelashes are just brushing the tops of his cheeks and his lips are slightly parted in sleep, plump, pink and begging to be kissed. His hair is sticking up all over the place and every now and then he’s making the most endearing snuffly noises. And, delightfully, Badass Agent Barton is a snuggler. He doesn’t look as though he’s moved much from where he fell asleep. In fact, he’s managed to wriggle even closer, head pillowed on my shoulder, arm tight across my chest and his legs now tangled with mine. I’m pretty sure that my shoulder has gone to sleep but it’s completely worth it to see him like this. Unfortunately, the leg that he has slung across me is lying across my bladder and as much as I don’t want to disturb either of them, I need the bathroom. Gently nudging Barton’s leg off my waist, I carefully lift his arm off my chest. Now the hard part – getting of the bed without upsetting my ribs or waking either of them up. Well, upsetting my ribs is inevitable so I just need to be as quiet as possible. It’s an awkward shuffle to the end of the bed but I make it. Being as quiet as I can becomes almost impossible when I feel a warm hand curl around my wrist. It’s only my S.H.I.E.L.D. training that stops me from screaming and jumping a mile. Twisting round as best I can, I can see that Barton is awake and looking confused, blinking away the sleep in his eyes.

“Bathroom,” I whisper with warm smile. “Go back to sleep.” 

“Don’t be too long,” He whispers back before shooing me off with a lazy wave of his hand. I grin back at him and hobble up off the bed to make my way to the bathroom and I’m suddenly acutely aware of the fact that I’m wearing nothing but a pair of bright red boy shorts and a Hawkeye t-shirt. Sneaking a look behind me, Barton is smiling smugly and enjoying the view. I roll my eyes at him and disappear into the bathroom. 

Gripping the sink and staring into the mirror, my smug grin beams back at me. Last night actually happened and out there, sprawled across the bed are two of the deadliest, sexiest men I have ever had the good fortune to meet. And they want me. _ME_. Not that I’m in any fit state to be doing anything but still. And if this is all the karma I’m going to get given in my life, I’m going to make the most of it. As soon as I can move without wincing that is.

I do what I need to do, brushing my teeth as well because nobody likes morning breath, before sneaking back out into the bedroom. My heart skips a tiny beat as I take in the sight of Clint and Phil wrapped around each other on the bed, happily snuggled together. For the second time in 24hours I feel like I’m intruding and stand awkwardly between the bathroom and the bed, pulling my t-shirt down in a futile attempt at covering my underwear. I consider just grabbing my trousers and boots and leaving but in the few moments it takes for me to deliberate running, Barton cracks an eye open and gives me a sleepy frown.

“What are you doing?” He yawns, his frown deepening when he sees my hand halfway to my trousers over the back of the chair.

“Leaving you both to it?” It’s a question rather than a statement, laced with hope as well as awkwardness.

“Why?”

“Because…….,” How can I put this?

Coulson opens his eyes and fixes me with that gaze of his that just makes me want to both melt and climb him like a tree. It’s his Agent stare and has reduced junior agents to tears. Why it affects me so differently probably shows just how gone I am for him.

“Come here,” Coulson says, his voice still thick and heavy with sleep and before I know it, my legs have instantly obeyed and are carrying me to the bed. I get a knee on the mattress and pause which causes Coulson to roll his eyes at me. “I said, come _here_ agent.”

There’s a whimper in the back of my throat at the order and yeah, if he uses his agent voice in the bedroom like that, I’m doomed. Barton scoots over and makes room in between them for me and I gingerly crawl up the bed to slot myself back between them. Barton immediately tugs me gently over onto my side to face him and Coulson presses himself against my back, shoulders to feet. He buries his face into the side of my neck, his morning stubble rasping deliciously against my skin there.

“We meant what we said last night,” Phil murmurs in my ear and fuck he sounds good when he’s just woken up. 

“So no running off,” Clint says, resting his forehead against mine and getting as close as he can without jostling my ribs.

“OK,” I say in a small voice, relaxing back against Phil and if I wasn’t in pain, I’d be doing something about what I can feel pressed against the curve of my backside. “So what now?”

“Well, it’s a usual work day for me,” Phil sighs, not sounding at all happy about the fact he has to get up. “And you, young lady will be coming with me so I can take you to medical. I’m not happy that they let you go early and I want you thoroughly checked out.”

“Then you’re coming right back here, Agent Pussy,” Barton smirks lazily while he traces random shapes on my thigh with his fingers. And the word pussy sounds even filthier when he says it in his just-woken-up voice. 

“I’m never getting away from that name, am I?” 

“Nope.”

I can hear Coulson rolling his eyes behind me and Barton flashes us both a grin. These two are going to be the death of me, I’m sure of it. A very sexy, lust addled, fuck-filled death. And I can quite happily live with that. As I feel Barton’s calloused fingers trailing over my thigh, I decide that I can most definitely live with that.

“And what am I doing while you two are sitting in medical?”Barton asks eventually, his finger trailing ever higher.

“You, Barton, are going to be coming with us,” Phil murmurs into my hair, his fingers tracing imaginary images on my shoulders. “Then, when I’m done dressing down medical and DJ has been looked over thoroughly, you’ll be bringing her right back here.”

“So I get her all to myself for the day?”

“And she’s to be getting nothing but rest when you do get back,”Coulson warns over my shoulder and Barton just pouts back at him.

“But...... _LEATHER PANTS_!”

“Tell you what, I'll put them on again when my ribs are healed,” I snigger and Clint's eyes light up.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Eventually, Coulson has to get up and the warm, comfy cuddle puddle on the bed has to end. Phil disappears into the bathroom and I hear the shower start up. The thought of him being in there naked makes me curse the fact that my ribs are so busted. Clint gets up and pulls on a pair of jeans and t-shirt as I watch him.

“Hey Barton?” I start.

“Clint.”

“Clint?”

“Yeah?”

“How's this gonna work? Us three I mean?” I begin, wanting to gage the situation.

“What? No-one ever give you the birds and the bees talk before?” Clint smirks as he rolls back onto the bed next to me, looking up at me from under his lashes. “Well, when a man and a woman love each other very much......”

I swat him with a pillow and grimace when the motion pulls at my ribs again.

“I'm being serious!” I say as he grabs the pillow from me. 

“Look, me and Phil play for both teams,” Clint says, taking the pillow and shoving it under his head. “Don't get me wrong, he's all I've ever wanted but sometimes someone else just catches our eye. Luckily we both have the same taste in women.”

“Widow?”

“For a while, yeah. I mean, the three of us have been a team for so long that we just sort of fell into it. We just really trust each other y'know? But then Bucky resurfaced so..... And then you came along,” Clint explained and my brain briefly short-circuits at the thought of Phil, Clint and Natasha together. 

“But I've been around for years,” I add, wondering why it had taken so long for them to make a move.

“Yeah, well, it takes a lot for us to trust someone so much with something like this,” Clint says sombrely and I get that. Being a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent means being ever vigilant and wary of others. It's the reason that most couples at S.H.I.E.L.D met each other there. That and the fact that the hours are often so long and random that it leaves little to no time for socialising outside of work.

“And you trust me now?”

“Yeah. Yeah we do. We've gone on enough missions together to know that you're the real deal,” Clint carries on. Over the years, I've been on a fair few missions with the pair, often because they were testing some of Stark's new tech and a weapon's expert needed to be present. That and the fact that I can kick arse with the best of them. Well, maybe not on the same level as the Avengers but still pretty damn good. “Christ, you've patched me up more times than I care to remember Lissy, of course I trust you.”

“OK,” I say in a small voice. “I just needed to be sure. I don't want to come between you two. And I won't. If I even get so much as a whiff that something isn't right, I'm gone.”

“Not gonna happen,” Clint murmurs quietly we stare at each other for a few moments. Now that that conversation is out of the way, I'm not entirely sure of what to do.

“Do you love him?” I ask eventually, never taking my eyes from his. Clint's quiet for a few moments but I don't need him to reply – the answer is written all over his face. I've never seen such a soft and contented look on the archer's face before. His eyes say it all, along with the slightly goofy smile he has plastered across his face. I can't help it, I have to touch him so I cup his cheek with my hand. He nuzzles into it and I swear that if Clint could purr, he would be right now. My hearts rests a little easier after having had the discussion but I swear to myself that at the first sign of one of them starting to feel awkward with me being here, I'll beat a hasty retreat. I never want to see Clint's beautiful face tainted with any sort of pain that I may have caused.

It takes both of us a few moments to notice that the shower has stopped and Phil has come back out into the bedroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist. He just stands there staring at the pair of us on the bed, my hand still cupping Clint's cheek.

“Look at you both, so gorgeous,” Phil says with a rasp as his eyes darken and I know it's not just me that blushes slightly at the words. Phil drinks us in for a bit longer before shaking his head with a small smile. “This is not helping me get to the office. Clint, would you help DJ get up and into her pants? Unless you want a shower first? We have time.”

“Na, I'll get one later sir,” I can't help the 'sir' from slipping past my lips out of habit but said in the context of two of us being half naked, Phil's motions towards the huge built in wardrobe stutter to a halt before he turns his heavy lidded gaze to me.

“Is.....Is that not OK?” I ask nervously as the atmosphere in the room suddenly becomes heavy and heated.

“No, that's _very_ OK,” Phil breathes and licks his lips.

My mouth forms a silent 'O' shape as I realise just how OK it is and I'm hit with an almost overwhelming feeling of _YESYESYES_ at all the possibilities that flash through my brain.

“Trust me, it's more than OK,” Clint drawls, sitting up and watching Phil stare at me. The three of us exchange heated looks for another few moments before Phil finally breaks the spell and reaches the wardrobe. I watch with Clint as Phil gradually disappears under his layers of Coulson and when he pulls on his suit jacket, he's Agent Coulson once more. All the softened edges are gone and he's all business. And I can't help squirming at how wet that makes me. 

Clint helps me off the bed and gives me a hand pulling on my trousers, his hands quick and efficient. If he notices how aroused I am, he doesn't say anything. But then he doesn't have to if the filthy smirk on his face is anything to go by. He disappears into the bathroom and it's then just me and Phil. I limp the few steps that separate us and reach up to adjust his tie. He watches me with heated eyes and I take the time to flatten my hands against the lapels of his jacket when I'm done with his tie and smooth my hands down his chest a little. God, he's perfect: all hard lines and authority and I have to catch myself before I slither to my knees in front of him. No man has ever made me want to hand over control so quickly and easily but so help me I do want to.

“Breathe Darklis,” And Phil using my given name in that tone almost punches the air out of my lungs. I suck in the breath so sharply that it makes my ribs throb. “Penny of them?”

“I've never wanted to submit to someone so much in my life,” I manage to whisper before flushing what I can only assume is a rather bright shade of scarlet. The whimper from behind me tells me that Clint has finished in the bathroom and walked back into the room at the exact moment of my confession. I can't tear my eyes away from Phil's and the noise that rumbles in the back of his throat is most definitely a growl. A very possessive, animal growl and I can't help the moan that escapes my own throat at the noise. It makes me want to sink to my knees and bare my neck to him in a sign of submission. If my ankle and ribs weren't so fucked, I would have been on my knees as soon as he finished putting the suit on.

“We need to go _now_ or so help me, we're never leaving this room,” Phil says, his eyes blown and hands clenched at his sides.

“Yeah,” Clint breathes huskily and shakes himself into action, grabbing his jacket and putting my arm around his shoulder to help me limp to the bedroom door. I don't want to leave. I want to stay wrapped up in the pair of them, breathing them in and learning every inch of them. The three of us make our way down the corridor towards the lift and before long, we're heading down to the floor with Phil's office. Tony had the right idea about giving over the lower floors of the tower to S.H.I.E.L.D's more senior agents – Clint and Phil must have the easiest commute to work in the city.

“ _Good morning Miss Johnson, how are you feeling today_?”

“Morning J. Sore. Very, very sore.”

“ _I'm sorry to hear the Miss Johnson. Would you like me to contact one of Mr Stark's physical therapists?_ ”

“Not sure they'll be able to help with bruised ribs J, but thanks for the offer.”

“ _You're most welcome. And if you change you mind, I'd be delighted to be of assistance.”_

“Thanks J – you're a doll. _”_

“Since when are you and JARVIS BFF's?” Clint arches an eyebrow at me.

“ _Miss Johnson and Master Stark work very closely together so I have had the pleasure in becoming acquainted with Agent Johnson over the last few years, Agent Barton. Can I assume that you are taking good care of Miss Johnson, given her diminished capacity at the present moment?”_

If it's possible for an AI to sound protective then that's exactly how JARVIS sounds right now.

“Don't worry Jarv, we've got her back,” Clint laughs as he catches the note of concern in the AI's voice.

“ _I hope so Agent Barton because Agent Johnson is, how do you say it, one of my Bros._ ” 

I snort with laughter, as does Clint and there's a definite smile tugging at the corners of Phil's mouth.

“JARVIS?”

“ _Yes, Miss Johnson?_ ”

“I love you dude.”

“ _Thank you. And I believe that the term is, right back at you.”_


	4. Chapter 4

Turns out that one of my ribs is cracked, not just bruised.  Needless to say, Phil is _NOT_ happy.  I actually feel a bit sorry for the doctor on the receiving end of Phil’s lowered voice and death glare and I’m impressed that he doesn’t just peed himself and run away.  Agent Coulson never shouts unless his out in the field under heavy gunfire and trying to make himself heard.  The quieter he is, the more trouble you’re in and he’s speaking to the doctor in a pretty quiet voice.  And doesn’t that just make me weak at the knees?  It’s a good job that I’m perched on a bed watching the proceedings that are going on outside in the corridor  because Phil is positively oozing authority at the moment and I’m pretty sure my legs wouldn’t be able to hold me.

“You’ve got it bad,” Clint chuckles next to me, bumping my good shoulder gently with his own.  He’s not wrong.

“Fuck off Barton,” I growl at him but my flushed cheeks and lip biting are giving me away.  “ _Fuck_.  How do you keep your hands off him when he’s in full on intimidating Agent mode?”

“I don’t.  Why do you think his office is soundproof and has biometric locks?” Clint replies and that just sets my mind off in a whole new direction.

“You need to let me watch the two of you sometime,” The words are out before I can stop them but hey, not my fault.  If Barton is going to feed me information like that, how am I supposed to engage my brain-to-mouth filter?  Clint just stares at me, the blue-grey of his eyes slowly being swallowed by the black of his pupils.  He’s so close and I’m struck by the realisation that I haven’t actually kissed him yet.  Or Phil.  I’ve slept in between them in bed in just my pants and t-shirt but I haven’t kissed them yet.  That needs to change. 

Right now.

“Not here,” Clint whispers and I’ve leaned in closer without noticing, his lips just a fraction away from mine.  His eyes feel like they’re burning a hole right through me and I can’t tear myself away

“Please?”

“Medical isn’t exactly the most romantic place.”

“Fuck romance – just kiss me already, you bastard.”

“Later.”

“Wanker.”

“Only for you.”

“Agents, time to go” Phil’s voice comes drifting through heated atmosphere of the room.  He’s still in agent mode but there’s a definite hint of possessiveness in his tone as he catches Clint and I just inches apart.  And his eyes tell the same story.  There’s also a warning there and it says ‘wait until I get you both home’ and that just sends a thrill right through me.  I make a note to conspire with Clint to drive Coulson absolutely insane at work sometime until he can’t wait to get home to both of us.

Wait.

 ** _Home to both of us_** _._ Did I just think that?  Did I just assume that this is for keeps?  Woah there tiger.  You haven’t even _kissed_ them yet and you’re already thinking long-term?  Dammit brain – stop thinking about things that you might not be able to actually have: you’ll only end up disappointed and alone.  Again.

“Hey kiddo?” Clint’s question makes me realise that I’ve ground to a halt half way to the door and I must have frustration and doubt etched across my face.

“Fine.  I’m fine,” I try to reassure him.

“Bullshit.”

“Look, can we just get out of here now?  If I have to stay here any longer, I may just stab someone.”

“Please don’t Agent Johnson,” Phil says, a wry smile tugging at his features.  “Because that would mean I have yet more paperwork to go through.”

“Seriously though, you ok?” Clint pushes but his concern is obvious.

“We’ll talk about it later, k?” I say, more a question than a statement.  “I just really want to not be here right now.”

“OK, but we _ARE_ going to talk later,” Clint says decisively.  We get to the elevator and Phil has to head off to his office.  He leaves with the promise that he’ll finish work at a reasonable hour and he’ll see is both later.  He gives us both a lingering look before disappearing off down the corridor.

“Can we swing by my place first?  If you’re both going to keep me confined to barracks, I need more clothes,” I ask Clint, who still looks concerned.

“You could go without y’know, I wouldn’t mind,” Clint smirks as we get into the lift.

“I could, but that would mean you wouldn’t get to undress me later and where’s the fun in that?” I wink back at him and Clint’s grip on my arm tightens.

“Don’t say shit like that to me when we’re stuck in a S.H.I.E.L.D. lift, _jesus_ ,” Clint almost whines and my pulse jumps at the fact I’ve managed to effect him that much.

We make it to my apartment and back what seems like minutes, Clint eager to get me spread out and comfortable on the couch as soon as possible.  Thankfully Darcy is at work so I don’t have to explain to her what Barton is doing carrying me around and going through my underwear draw as I perch uncomfortably on the bed watching him.  Once back on Clint and Phil’s floor of the tower, I gladly sink back into the vast cushions of the sofa and sigh happily.

“Did you want a shower babe?” Clint asks as he comes back from putting my bag in the bedroom.

“Babe?” I ask quizzically with a grin on my face.  “Really?”

“Yeah, why not?” Clint grins back.  “Babe, honey-bun, sweetheart……”

“OK, stop with that _right now,”_ I laugh and it jostles my ribs, forcing a groan out of me.   “Seriously, _fuck_ this; I am so done with this shit.”

“Language,” Clint drawls but I know he sympathises.  The amount of times he’s had cracked ribs over the years, I’m surprised he has any left.

“But yes, a shower would be good.”

“Need any help?” Clint waggles his eyebrows.

“I would say yes but I’m in no fit state to take advantage of you in the shower,” I grumble and he helps pull me up of the couch.  “Besides, it’s a walk in one so I’ll be fine.”

“Well, just shout if you need me.”

“Aye aye specialist,” I give him a lazy salute and head for the shower.  It’s a little awkward getting the bindings off but soon Im standing under the blessed stream of hot water, a sigh escapes me as I feel the water soothe away most of tension in my muscles.  Getting dressed is another matter and I’m going to need Clint’s help with new strapping for my ribs.  I manage to pull on a pair of sweats but then I run out of steam.

“J?” I address the ceiling.

_“”Yes Miss Johnson?”_

“Could you ask Clint to get his sorry behind in here?  I need his help.”  There’s a pause before JARVIS comes back.

“ _He’s on his way_ .”

“Thanks J.”

Clint strides into the bedroom moments later to find me sat at the end of the bed covering my boobs with one arm and holding my t-shirt in the other.

“I could use a little help,” I pout at him and he grins at me, taking in my half naked appearance and god, if I wasn’t so sore…..

“Strapping first?”

“Please.”

“Be right back,” And he disappears for a few moments before coming back with a bag of stuff that medical have given me.  Kneeling in front of me on the floor, he gently nudges my legs apart so he can get in between them.  He runs his fingertips lightly over the bruising skin before reaching for his pot of magic cream.  I watch from above as he furrows his brow in concentration and I’m soon lost in the feel of his strong hands being so gentle.

“Grit your teeth baby – this is gonna hurt for a second,” He says in a soft voice eventually and reaches for the bandages.  I give him the nod and he starts wrapping my midsection tightly.  When he’s done, he spreads his hands over both of my sides gently as he inspects his handiwork.

“Thank you,” I say in a small voice, aware that once again, he’s mere inches from me, all muscle and perfection.  He lifts his eyes to mine and that’s it, I have to kiss him.  I lean forwards and brush my lips against his just to hear his breath hitch a little at the electricity that courses through both of us at the touch.

“More please,” I breathe and he obliges, moving his hands to my thighs as he surges upwards to press our lips together.  He’s gentle at first but the small noise I make at the back of my throat makes him deepen the kiss and I’m gone, utterly lost in the slide of lips.  His hands travel up my thighs to rest at my hips and tug me nearer the edge of the bed, wanting me closer.  I trap him between my legs and need to get even closer.  Momentarily forgetting that I’m naked from the waist up, both my hands come up to cup his face, gently tilting his head to one side so that our lips slip together better.  He groans and that’s all the cue I need to slide my tongue across his bottom lip.  He opens to me easily and the whimper it illicits from me prompts him to slip his hands from my hips, up my back and splay them across my bare shoulders.  Ribs be damned, I want more.  Straightening up (and thank god for the strapping), I press my chest to his and wrap my arms around his neck, one hand in his hair and the other pressing against his shoulder.  We’re lost then in the hungry clash of lips, tongue and teeth and it’s glorious.  He’s everything I imagined and more.  I could drown in this and die happy.  One of his big, calloused hands spans my neck, thumb massaging just under my ear and the other tangles in my hair.  But then a thought occurs to me and I pull away breathlessly, resting my forehead against his.

“Shouldn’t we…..shouldn’t we wait for Phil?” I ask, panting a little and staring in wonder at Clint’s slightly swollen, kiss plump lips.  Clint stares down at my naked breasts that are currently pressed hard against his chest and chuckles.

“Probably.”

“I’m sorry, I just really, _REALLY_ wanted to kiss you,” I smile.  “Been thinking about doing that for a reeeeeeeeally long time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s keep doing it then.”

*********

Sometime later and Clint has managed to arrange me on the bed without upsetting my ribs and he’s kissing me breathless, his hands gently mapping the bits of me he can reach with one hand while he uses the other to prop himself up next to me.  It’s all gentleness and adoration and I’m revelling in it.  All that lethal concentration and flawless eyesight is centred on me and I can’t get enough.  Now I’ve had a taste I don’t know that I could ever survive without it.  He’s like an oasis in the desert and I’m damn fucking thirsty.  I do feel a twinge of guilt that Phil isn’t here but I just can’t help myself.  Clint pulls back, all ruffled hair and swollen lips and I just stare.  It’s kinda hard not to.

“I should get you dressed,” He says sheepishly, running his eyes down my body, lingering a while on my breasts.  “Phil said you need rest.”

“I am resting,” I pout, trying to pull his face down to mine again with a hand at the back of his neck.  “I’m lying down aren’t I? That’s resting.”

Clint arches his eyebrow at me and I pout some more but he’s having none of it.

“ _Pleeeeeeease_?” I’m not above begging.

“Don’t tempt me.  If we carry on, I’m not going to be able to stop,” Clint says ruefully and tugs at the waistband of my sweats playfully.

“Then don’t,” My voice is surprisingly husky.  But kissing Clint for hours will do that to a girl.

“You missy, are an evil minx,” Clint lets my sweats go to twang against my hip.  “The boss said you need rest and that’s exactly what you’re going to get so stop tempting me.”

“But I already told you, I _AM_ resting,” I wriggle against him as much as my ribs will allow and try tugging him down to me some more.  It doesn’t work.

“No, you’re not,” A voice drifts in from the doorway and Clint and I freeze.  Shit.  Busted.  I peer around Clint’s shoulder to see Phil leaning against the doorframe with a lazy smile on his face.  “When I said she needed rest Barton, I didn’t mean…..” Phil waves his hand towards us to explain.

“She started it,” Clint grumbles but doesn’t pull away.  I give his hair a tug for ratting me out and his eyes roll back at the sensation.

“Do you have any idea what you two look like?” Phil says, gravel in his voice as his eyes rake over both of us.

“I’ve got a pretty good idea,” I say silkily, arching as best I can, which isn’t very far.  I may be bandaged and bruised but I’m in pretty good shape thanks to rigorous S.H.I.E.L.D. fitness routines and I’m proud of my body.

“When she’s healed, she’s going to be a serious handful Boss,” Clint murmurs before finally giving in and kissing me again as if he just can’t help himself.  There’s a low, approving growl from the doorway and without breaking away from Clint, I reach out an arm and make a grabby hand motion towards Phil.  I can hear movement and in a split second, Clint’s lips are gone and I’m being straddled by a fully suited and booted Phil Coulson as he leans over me.  He cups my face with both his hands, his gun calloused thumbs catching deliciously as he rubs my cheeks with them.  If I thought it was a thrill having all of Clint’s focus on me, it’s nothing compared to having Phil’s on me.   A jolt goes through me as I take in his darkening eyes and look of pure, unadulterated want.

“I told you to rest,” Phil purrs at me, his face mere inches from mine and he lowers himself further but not touching me at all.  I whimper at the feel of his silk tie against my naked torso and the sides of suit jacket ghost against my flesh bringing goose bumps to my skin instantly.  I’m overcome with a sudden desire to be completely naked whilst he takes me apart fully clothed.

“Just…… _fuck_ , just…… _please_ sir,” I’m begging again and I don’t care.  I just want Phil’s lips on mine and I wrap his tie around my hand and pull.  At the word ‘sir’, his eyes blacken impossibly more and he eventually stops resisting my insistent tugging on his tie and meets me halfway.  The kiss is hungry, filthy and possessive and I moan into his mouth as he claims me, devouring every noise I make and I surrender to him utterly.  I don’t even try to fight for dominating the kiss, there’s no point.  All I want to do is submit to this man and he doesn’t even have to try.  My senses are full of him, everything in my immediate world is _sir_ and I want it all.  Eventually though, he pulls away and I’m a little smug at the slightly dazed look on his face.

“Fuck _Phil_ ……” Clint says hoarsely from my right.  “So you…… _jesus_ …”

“I told you to rest,” Phil repeats but this time he sounds wrecked.  “And as soon as those ribs are healed, you can have more.”

The whine I make is a little pathetic but I’m past caring at this point.  In one kiss, Phil has promised so much and I want it.  All of it, right the fuck now. 

“Ah!” Phil silences me with a look and I obey.  Hard not to when faced with that look.  “Good girl.  Now, I’m starving so I think that dinner is in order.”

“Such a tease,” Clint laughs and I cross my arms across my chest, trying to cover my modesty.

“Fine,” I pout as Clint grabs my t-shirt and helps me sit up to pull it on over my head.  From under the fabric I add: “I want pizza.”

“Oooo, me too!” Clint chips in.

“Pizza it is then. JARVIS?”

“ _Yes Agent Coulson?”_

“Phil, please.  Would you kindly place an order for pizza for us?”

“ _Certainly Phil. From anywhere in particular?”_

“Wherever is best JARVIS – we’re celebrating tonight.”

“ _Very well.  And may I say, welcome to the Avengers family Miss Johnson. I have programmed you into all the biometric locking systems in the tower and taken the liberty of forwarding all the relevant key codes to your mobile phone.”_

Well, that answers all those worries I had earlier today then.

“Um, thanks J,” I say, utterly bewildered and daring to be as hopeful as I want to be.

“ _As ever, you’re most welcome DJ_.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just felt that I should mention that the confetti gun is actually a thing. Cap uses it in an issue of Daredevil to confuse him and upset his sonar sense. 
> 
> Seriously, I shit you not, it's an actual thing.

A few days later and I shuffle into the communal kitchen to find some signs of human life. Both Clint and Phil had been called in together with Natasha the morning after I was sent home from medical for a second time. They had insisted that I stay in the tower rather than go back to my apartment because they wanted me there when they came home plus, if I'm in the tower then JARVIS can keep an eye on me. I had grumbled and complained that I was a big girl now and could take care of myself, thank you very much. Phil had then laid down the law and _ordered_ me to stay put and who am I to refuse that?

So, here I am, in a pair Iron Man sleep pants (thanks Tony) and black vest, limping into the Avengers communal kitchen in the hope that someone is home to keep me entertained. Ah! A super solider making pancakes – perfect!

“Captain Rogers,” I say in greeting before gingerly sliding onto a stool at the centre island.

“Steve,”

“Hey Steve,” I still can’t get used to calling Captain America by his first name. Feels disrespectful.

“Morning DJ,” Steve replies with a wide smile and it’s a megawatt smile. I can’t help but grin back. “Pancakes?”

“Yes please.”

Steve plates up, I pour us both coffee and we sit in comfortable silence whilst the stack of pancakes slowly disappears. Tony wanders in at some point and the three of us sit in contented quiet for a while, Tony working away on his Stark Pad, Steve reading his newspaper and me just slowly sipping coffee and enjoying the company after days on my own on Clint and Phil’s floor. Today is the first day I’ve been able to get around under my own steam, hence making a beeline for the communal floor.

“So, happy belated welcome to the tower,” Tony eventually says, pushing his tablet to one side and turning towards me. “Do I even want to know why you now kinda live here?”

“Probably not, but you owe me 50 bucks and that bottle of Strathisla.”

“Proof or it didn’t happen.”

“Fine. I’ll get you proof,” I smirk into my mug. “Now, I’m bored so I’m roping you in to entertaining me for the day Stark.”

“Well, it’s a workshop day for me so you wanna come talk shop?” Tony asks, draining the rest of his coffee and topping his mug up with more. “Or would you prefer to just sit and watch me be all geniusy and amazing?”

“Dude, anything is better than sitting on my own for another day,” I grumble. “ _Sooooooo_ boring not being able to do anything. So yeah, your workshop it is.”

“Is that wise?” Steve looks worried.

“She’ll be fine Cap. I’m not going to let her do anything stupid,” Steve raises his eyebrows at that so Tony waves his hand at him to shush him. “Honestly, it’s all good. Besides, JARVIS will be keeping an eye out, won’t you J?”

“ _Indeed sir.”_

“I’m still not convinced,” Steve frowns and Tony just reaches over to tug the front of his t-shirt to get him to lean down for a kiss.

“You worry too much dear,” Tony says fondly and I wonder at the love I can see in both their eyes. They look at each other for a moment before Tony turns to me. “Right then, TO THE WORKSHOP!”

 

******

 

“Tony?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Tony stops fiddling with the holograms in front of him to look at me sideways. “Sounds serious. Shoot.”

“How does it work for you three - you, Pepper and Steve I mean?”

“You mean my totally awesome, hot, sexy love triangle?” Tony smirks and turns to give me his full attention.

“Yeah, that.” He shrugs and thinks for a moment.

“I dunno, it just does.”

“Really fucking helpful Tony, thanks.”

“Look, it’s hard to explain.”

“You’re a genius, try.”

“OK…..,” Tony sucks in a breath and thinks harder. “OK, so I love Pepper, have done for a long time, but I love Steve too. The three of us just kind of clicked and slotted together. It’s really hard to explain but it just works. I mean, Pepper gives me things that Steve can’t and vice versa. And they get things from each other that I can’t give them and it just…..it just works.”

“Still not helping.”

“Is this about you, Agent and Legolas?”

“Yeah,” I sigh, unsure of myself now that Clint and Phil haven’t been around for a week. “I mean, it’s really obvious that they’re completely in love with each other and….”

“Still want proof,” Tony interrupts and I throw my pen at him.

“….and I don’t want to come in between that. So why, if they’re so into each other, would they want someone else? Especially me?” 

Tony considers for a moment and I can see that he’s trying to reassure me and give me an answer that makes sense.

“Well, they’re both bi, right?” I nod. “Then the whole wanting a woman is obvious, am I right?” I nod again. “Well, given the crazy lives we lead as Avengers, and I’m including Agent here too, doesn’t it kind of make sense that our love lives would be unconventional too?”

“I guess,” I think about it for a moment. “That does actually make a lot of sense.”

“Genius, remember?”

“You never let anyone forget.”

“Look, stop thinking about it so hard,” Tony carries on. “They want you, you want them, what's the big deal? Think about it: life’s too short to do things the ‘normal’ way, and we of all people should know that.”

He’s right. If working for S.H.I.E.L.D. has taught me anything it's that life is precious and all too often, a lot shorter than we’d hope. And if anyone can see life like that it’s Phil, considering we all thought he was dead for 3 months after the battle of New York. And that would certainly explain him and Clint. After years of watching them dance around each other, it took Phil ‘dying’ for either of them to make a move.

“Urgh. I hate it when you’re right – you get so fucking smug,” I grumble, scratching at the bandages around my middle. My ribs are still sore but the strappings are starting to irritate me now. “Anyway, how’s that confetti gun coming along?”

 

*******

 

Needless to say, we were both in big trouble later on that evening when Tony and I crept up to the communal floor to test out the confetti gun. Steve was furious at the mess and after helping Tony clear it up, I retreated back down to Clint and Phil’s floor to hide. Which, of course, meant that I was bored again. Now that my ribs were healing nicely, I could get around more and I was starting to get restless. And I was missing Clint and Phil. Christ, It had only been a couple of days and then they were off on a mission, I shouldn’t be missing them this much already. But then, having worked with them for so long and got to know them, just those few days of being closer meant that, and I’m not ashamed to admit this, I’m pining for them. Pathetic really. I’m a grown woman for fucks sake and a more than capable S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, I should not be fucking pining for anyone. But I miss them. I miss their smell, I miss their solid presence and worst of all, the anticipation is starting to get to me. I’m fast reaching my limits of sexual frustration and I just want them back here so I can make a start on all the dirty and depraved things I want to do to them. I made a silent promise to myself not to masturbate furiously whilst they were gone and I’m starting to regret that decision. I can’t go down to the specially constructed Avengers gym because my ribs aren’t up to much more than getting dressed at the moment. At least if I could do that I’d be able to work of some of this tension. And medical have signed me off work until I’m healed so I can’t even go to the range and shot things until I feel calmer. God knows when my boys will be back and it’s driving my insane.

My boys.

A smile slowly works its way across my face at the thought of them being _MY_ boys. But I don’t let myself get too hopeful yet. We need a lot longer as a trio to find out if I really can call them mine. I sigh in defeat and head back to the bedroom to lie down and watch a film. I’m just getting settled in for a John Hughes marathon when my phone rings. I don’t recognise the number but answer it anyway.

“Johnson,” 

“Agent Pussy!” Its Clint and god it’s good to hear his voice. 

“Please stop calling me that.”

“Only when it stops being funny. Which is never. Wotcha doin’?”

“About to embark on a chick flick marathon seeing as I’m here in this massive bed all alone and bored out of my tiny mind.”

“N'aww, I think she misses us Boss,” Barton says and I can hear movement on his end of the phone.

“Have you been resting?” Phil’s voice comes through loud and clear.

“Yes, and it’s _booooring_ ,” I sigh, Phil’s voice calming something within me that I didn’t know was tense. “When are you coming home?” I hate myself a little for sounding so needy.

“We’re nearly done so just a few more days,” Phil says and I calm further. “Have you been looking after yourself? Eating properly? Going to physio?”

“Yes, yes and yes,” I answer, chuckling slightly at how mother hen Phil sounds.

“Good girl,” And I’m happy to admit that I preen a little at the praise.

“And have you and Tony been behaving yourselves?”

“Um………,” Shit.

“That’s a no then,” Phil laughs quietly. “I’m sure Steve will fill me in when I get back. And I’ll deal with you when I see you.”

“Is that a promise, _sir_?” I swallow thickly, throat going dry and arousal already curling in my belly at the thought.

“That’s a promise agent,” Phil growls down the phone line and I can’t help the small moan that escapes my lips. I hear Clint muffled in the background and then the slightly tinny sound of wherever they are which tells me I’m now on speaker phone. 

“So, wotcha wearing?” Clint asks nonchalantly, sounding a little further away than before.

“Oh, y’know. Iron Man sleep pants, a vest and a fuck ton of bandages.”

“Hot!” Clint laughs and I catch on to where this is heading. Maybe I should have said I was wearing some sexy underwear or something. “Where are you?”

“In bed.”

“Our bed?”

“Yeah.”

“OK, _that’s_ hot. Right Boss?”

“It does conjure up quite a delicious picture, yes,” Phil agrees. 

“Hey, kiddo?” Clint asks and I roll my eyes at the nickname.

“What?”

“Wanna have some long distance fun? ‘Cos we’ve been thinkin’ about you all week.”

“Yes please,” I breathe and I feel my cheeks heat at the knowledge of where this is going. My skin is practically vibrating at how much I want the both of them and if this is all I’m going to get until they get back then I’ll take it.

“Darklis,” Phil says in that tone of his that just sends shocks through my entire body. “Have you touched yourself while we’ve been gone?”

“No sir.”

“Not at all?”

“No sir.”

“Good girl,” And I can hear Phil’s smile over the miles that separate us.

“Always a good girl for you sir,” There’s a strangled sound from Clint at that which gives me a smug smile.

“What are you thinking about right now Lissy?” Clint asks and he sounds a little more breathless than he did before.

“You. Both of you. Wish you were here with me now. This bed is too huge for little ol’ me,” I smile. The hand that isn’t holding the phone to my ear is clenched at my side but the urge to just shove it down my pants is fast becoming overwhelming.

“ _Fuck._ Why doesn’t this shitty thing have a video link?” Clint whines and I have to laugh at that. “JARVIS? Can you do anything?”

“ _I’m afraid not Agent Barton. You neglected to take your new Stark Phone with you so I cannot implement a video link.”_

“You’ll just have to use your imagination Robin Hood,” I come back with and I hear Clint cursing in the background.

“Well, why don’t you tell Clint what you’ve been thinking about whilst we've been gone?” Phil says and that just opens a whole new folder in my brain. The bit that’s been storing flashes of what I want to do to him and what I want him, both of them to do to me.

“Aside from him holding me down and fucking me senseless you mean?” And yeah, why hold back now? 

“Aside from that.”

“Well, it’s mostly involved the both of you,” I take a deep breath. It’s been a while since I had any sort of phone sex so it could take me a moment to get into the swing of things again.

“And what have you imagined?”

I pause for a moment, unsure of where to start seeing as I have enough of images of these two in my wank bank to last more than a few lifetimes.

“I’ve imagined you taking me apart while you’ve still got your suit on. I’ve imagined Clint using those obscene arms of his to hold me down and use me. I can’t stop thinking about Clint’s lips on every part of my body, and I’ve imagined both of you inside me, at the same time, fucking me until I can’t see straight, let alone walk the next day,” I say in a rush and that’s not even half of it. It’s like all the thoughts I’ve been having suddenly want to come tumbling out of my mouth.

“Seriously Jarv, is there nothing you can do?” Clint sounds a little desperate.

“ _My apologies again Agent Barton but no._ ” JARVIS' answer is followed by a stream of expletives from Clint.

“What about you two? You say you've been thinking about me all week so what have you been thinking about?” I ask, my free hand slowly creeping towards my crotch apparently under its own steam. I snatch it back, determined to make this last. If I go at it now, it'll be over embarrassingly quickly.

“Oh Darklis, we've been thinking of all sorts of things,” Phil purrs and I can hear the rustle of clothes in the background. This is going to get interesting. “Like right now, we're both picturing you spread out on our bed, getting all hot and bothered for us. Thinking about those pert breasts of yours, your nipples getting nice and hard while you listen to me. You want to touch yourself, don't you Darklis? Are you getting wet thinking about us, my gorgeous girl?”

“Nnggg...” Is all that comes out of my mouth at the sound of cool, calm Agent Coulson using that voice to say such things to me. I need to keep it together if I want to participate in this at all. I hear Clint whimper on the other end of the phone and the sound of a zipper being pulled down. Whose I don't know but right now I don't care. This right here? Hottest moment of my life to date. And I'm alone with all my clothes on.

“Why don't you put your phone on speaker my darling? You're going to want two hands for this,” Phil drawls and I hear his breath hitch a little. I do as I'm told, putting the phone on speaker and putting it on the pillow next to me. 

“OK,” I breathe.

“Good. Now, can you take your clothes off without hurting your ribs?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good,” Phil says and I can hear the smile in his voice. I slip off my sleep pants and pull the vest up and over my head leaving me completely naked aside from the bandages. The air feels a little cool against my skin but something tells me that I won't be cold for long.

“Spread your legs for me beautiful. I want to imagine how pink and and lush you must look, all spread out on the bed for us.”

I moan as I plant my feet on the bed and spread my legs apart. I'm aching to touch myself, to slip two fingers inside myself but Phil hasn't said that I can so I won't.

“I can just imagine what you look like, such a good girl for us,” Phil carries on and there's a slight tremor in his voice. And Clint has been awfully quiet.

“Where's Clint?” I ask.

“Would you like me to tell you what Clint is doing?” Phil teases and I nod, even though I know he can't see me. “Our little hawk currently has his mouth full.” And in the background I can hear Clint pull away with an obscene pop and I can't help the loud moan that sounds out in the quiet of the bedroom at the image of Clint on his knees with Phil's cock down his throat.

“ _Fuck...”_ I breathe, desperate to touch myself. I'm pretty sure that I'm now so wet that the sheet underneath me is getting soaked.

“Tell her to touch herself,” Clint says hoarsely before Phil's breath hitches again and I know that Barton has gone back to work.

“C...can I?” I ask, needing something, _anything_.

“Clint, you look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock,” Phil purrs and I have to screw my eyes shut at the image those words conjure up. If I keep on thinking about that, there's a very strong possibility that I won't need to touch myself at all. “I wonder how those lips would look buried in Darklis' cunt?”

Clint and I both moan at the same time, each picturing what Phil is describing and I need them both here with me, _right fucking now_.

“Would you like that Darklis? Clint using his clever tongue on you, making you hard and wet for my cock? He's ver......very good with his t.....his tongue,” Phil stutters slightly and whatever Clint is doing, it's working.

“Please...... _please_ sir.....,” I gasp, already writhing as much as I can with a cracked rib.

“T.....touch yourself for me beaut.....beautiful girl,” Phil breathes and I can tell he must be close. As soon as he gives me permission, my hand flies to my pussy, plunging two fingers straight in, needing _something_ inside me. “How does it feel? Tell me.”

“So wet..... _fuck_....so wet for you both sir,” I gasp. “So tight and wet. Want.....I.... _shit_.....I _WANT_....”

I can hear Clint moaning around Phil's cock and if he carries on making noises like that, this is going to be over pretty fucking soon. I work my fingers faster, bringing my other hand down so that I can rub my clit, sparks already lighting up my spine and making my knees weak.

“Are you close Darklis?” Phil breathes.

“Y....yes sir,” I manage to force out, my hips finding a rhythm against my fingers as I chase my climax.

“Do it, cum for me beautiful girl,” Phil orders and it's all I need to let out a guttoral groan and clench around my fingers, body stiffening as I cum hard, crying out Phil's name and writhing on the bed, cracked rib be damned. I hear Phil's muffled cries as he cums and I picture Clint's throat spasming around Phil's cock as he swallows. That thought and the sound of Clint groaning forces an aftershock to rush through me and I want to see it first hand. I lie there panting, sprawled out on the bed as I listen to both men breathing hard over the loud speaker of the phone.

“When did you say you were coming home?” I say breathily a while later, shivering a little as the heat of my orgasm begins to subside.

“Sooner rather than later if I have anything to do with it,” Clint rasps, his throat sounding ragged and used.

“Did......did you.......?”

“You're damn right I did,” Clint chuckles and I'd give anything to see what he looks like right now, lips swollen and red with perhaps a trickle of Phil's cum on his chin. “Came in my fucking pants like a teenager.”

I laugh at that and yeah, I need them back as soon as possible. If tonight is anything to go by, it's going to be quite the welcome home. 

“Get some rest Darklis,” Phil's voice sounds a little soft around the edges and the thought of how ruffled he must look makes me smile.

“Do I have to?” I pout, knowing full well that he can't see me.

“Yes. Get some rest and we'll see you soon.”

“OK. Stay safe.”

“Always.”

I sigh as the phone clicks, signalling that they've gone and I'm alone again. I pull the blanket on the end of the bed around me and settle in for my movie marathon, smugly content in my afterglow but sad that I don't have Clint or Phil to share it with.

“J?”

“ _Yes DJ?_ ”

“You got all of that on camera, didn't you?”

“ _I record all goings on within the tower unless instructed otherwise._ ”

“Of course you do. Could you do me a favour?

“ _You'd like me to send Agents Coulson and Barton the video feed of the last half an hour over the secure server to Agent Coulson's private Stark Pad._ ”

“J, you're a marvel, anyone ever tell you that?”

“ _Frequently._ ”

“So modest. One of the many reasons why I love you.”

“ _I try. The video feed as been sent to Agent Coulson's tablet_.”

“Thanks J.”

“ _You are most welcome._ ”

I prop myself up on the many pillows littering the bed and start the first film, yawning as the titles for Sixteen Candles begins. About half an hour in and I'm already dozing, snug and warm wrapped in the blanket and deliciously sated.

“ _Miss Johnson, I have received a reply from Agents Coulson and Barton._ ”

“That was quick,” I chuckle smugly. “What have they got to say for themselves then?”

“ _We'll be home tomorrow._ ”

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter turned into a fucking MONSTER. Over 10,000 words of just porn. What has my life become?!
> 
> And this is the first fic I've actually managed to finish. I know there are going to be other parts to this series but this is the first thing I've actually manage to finish. CELEBRATE WITH ME!!
> 
> As always, this is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. Point them out and I'll fix them.
> 
> Also cum or come? I went with cum. Meh.
> 
> Yeah, so enjoy! ;)

The next day and I'm a bunch of nerves, pacing Clint and Phil's suite completely unable to concentrate on anything. I woke up ridiculously early, too excited to stay in bed and now I don't know what to do with myself. I have no idea when Phil and Clint will get back, if they can even get back today at all. When I first asked Phil last night, he'd said that they'd still be gone a few days so I'm guessing they'll be home later rather than during the day. I potter around tidying and reorganising things but pretty soon, there's nothing left to do. I could go and bother Tony but I'm so keyed up that he'd just end up getting DUMM-E to chase me out of the workshop for being too annoying. Again. Steve will be in the gym and Bruce has been holed up in his lab for days. I know I should go back to my apartment to get a few more clothes but I don't want to leave the tower in case I miss the Quinjet arriving. I could ask Darcy to drop by with some things but that could mean that she'd probably be here when Phil and Clint get back. Which wouldn't be ideal seeing as I'm planning on jumping them as soon as they walk through the door. 

After staring at a wall for 15 minutes, I decide to go and pick out something to wear later and then have a soak in the bath. A nice relaxing bath with the luxury of built in jets sounds like bliss. Going through my bag in the bedroom, there's not much to choose from. There's my leather pants from that first night, a pair of sweats, an old pair of jeans and a few t-shirts. Not exactly sexy. The underwear that Clint had thrown in my bag aren't much better. To be honest, I don't own any sexy underwear, just slightly nicer versions of my usual boy shorts, none of which are in the bag. I could wear the leather pants again, seeing as Clint has taken a shine to them, but it's still not quite right. 

Sighing, I stand and stare at the clothes I've spread out on the bed. No, none of these will do. Taping my foot in irritation, my eyes look around the room for some sort of inspiration before alighting on the enormous walk in wardrobe and I'm struck by an idea. Padding over, I fold back the doors and decide that yes, I've come up with an excellent plan. Wandering inside, I trail my fingers over the rail of shirts that can only belong to Phil. He's always so immaculately dressed, everything matching, even down to his cufflinks. It's the thing that had drawn me to him in the first place. As I run my fingers over his countless suit jackets, I consider how his suits have become his armour. When he puts them on, he becomes Agent Coulson, unflappable and so badass that even the most formidable foes quake in their boots. Lifting up one of the sleeves of a deep navy jacket, I inhale deeply, taking in his scent. It's strong and comforting, accents of sandalwood, gun powder and authority and it's a potent mix. I take a moment to bury my face in the fabric, breathing deeply before reluctantly letting go and going back to the rail of shirts. I choose one that is a very pale blue, so pale that it's barely blue at all, with a very fine navy pinstripe. Its understated, just how Phil appears to the outside world. I take the hanger off the rail and step over to the other side of the wardrobe where all the drawers are. I find what I'm looking for on the first try – Clint's underwear drawer. And I laugh out loud when I find a collection of Hawkeye boxer briefs. Trust Clint to have an entire selection of pants with him emblazoned on them. I sort through before settling for a pair of purple shorts with tiny arrows all over them and 'Hawkeye' printed across the back. Perfect. 

I clear away my clothes from the bed and lay out the shirt and shorts before going to the bathroom to start up the water, adding a mixture of all the bubble baths and oils lining the side of the tub. It's not long before the bath is full and I gladly strip off, carefully peeling off the bandages from around my ribs for the first time in days. It still hurts a little but its more of a dull ache than anything else. The bruising is still there but it's starting to fade. I do an experimental twist of my torso and I'm pleased to note that it hardly hurts at all. A faint twinge but a lot of it is just stiffness now from no use. Stepping into the water, I sigh happily as I sink down until the surface of the water reaches my chin. Bliss. 

After soaking for a while, it's time to make myself presentable by doing all the usuals: exfoliating, shaving my legs and.... other parts and then I switch on the jets, turning the bath into a hot tub. Any tension I did have is pummelled away and even my ribs appreciate it. I get lost on the warmth of the water and the jets for god knows how long, dozing off for a bit as the water soothes all my aches and pains. Eventually though, the water starts to cool and it's time to get out. Drying off, I slather myself on lotion that smells faintly of coconut to make sure that my skin is silky smooth all over before padding back out to the bedroom naked to put on Phil's shirt and Clint's boxer briefs. The suite is still silent so they haven't snuck in while I was in the bath. Looking at the bedside clock, it's 6pm so I'm sure they can't be too far out. The shirt is big on me, the cuffs ending well past the end of my fingers so I roll them over loosely a few times. The hem comes down to mid thigh so covers the briefs but I only bother with the middle few buttons on the shirt. That means that the boxers are visible whenever I move and there's a fair amount of skin on show across my chest. I leave my hair down, so that it falls in waves over my shoulders and I'm hoping that my whole appearance give an air of just-got-out-of-bed-I-haven't-missed-you-at-all-but-can-you-fuck-me-now-please. 

 " _Miss Johnson, I have been asked by Agents Coulson and Barton to inform you that they'll be landing in approximately 30 minutes._ ” JAVIS' voice makes me jump. 

“Thanks J. Wait, do you know if they meant landing at HQ or landing here at the tower.” 

“ _Here at the tower Miss Johnson_.” 

“Great. Oh Jarv? Can I ask you for another favour?” 

“ _You'd like me to record everything that happens in the suite tonight and store it on Agent Coulson's secure server._ ” 

“What would I do without you J?” 

“ _Have to record your own pornographic material?_ ” 

“Exactly. Love you J!” 

“ _And I you DJ._ ” 

30 minutes. Oh god, 30 minutes and they'll both be right here, with me, _finally. I_ t suddenly feels like that nerve-wracking first date, despite the fact that we were having phone sex last night, and I feel like I'm about to vibrate out of my skin again. I make a beeline for the small bar next to the kitchen and pour myself a large scotch. Its a pleasurable burn as the first mouthful slides smoothly down my throat and I head for the freezer for ice before taking another large mouthful. It doesn't taste great mixed with toothpaste but the subtle smoky notes aren't lost on me. It's good scotch and I down the rest in one before refilling the glass. I fiddle around with a few things in the kitchen, putting on the coffee machine and wondering if I should have made dinner. Fuck it, I'll get JARVIS to order in later if they want it. I just start to wonder if maybe I should go and arrange myself enticingly on the bed when I hear the familiar sound of the Quinjet arriving. My heart starts pounding as I stare at the door to the living room. I lean up against the kitchen counter in full view of the door, hip resting against the counter top, a hand on my hip and the hand holding the tumbler on the kitchen side so they won't be able to see that I'm shaking. 

“J? Some music, if you please. Something that goes with a fine single malt. And could you lower the lights a little?” 

Almost immediately, Ella Fitzgerald is playing through all the speakers in the suite at the perfect level and the lights are lowered until the whole room is bathed in a hazy, almost golden glow. 

“ _Agents Coulson and Barton are currently in the elevator on their way to the suite. And may I add, enjoy your evening Miss Johnson._ ” If AI's could have dirty smirks, JARVIS would be wearing one right now. 

“Oh, I know I will J, don't you worry about that. Now shoo, I have two agents to seduce.” 

JARVIS doesn't say anything more and I sip at my scotch nervously, already getting a slight buzz from the first glass full thanks to not having eaten much today. My eyes are back on the door and the seconds seem to stretch into hours as I wait. Eventually, the door swings open and there they are, _finally_. Clint is still in his field suit, bow slung across his back and carrying two duffel bags. He's covered in what I can only assume is some sort of brick dust and Phil's suit is only slightly rumpled, which means he saw a fair bit of action today. Both their hair is windswept and ruffled and they look exhausted. But fuck me am I glad to see them. They stop half way across the room when they see me and I could cut the atmosphere in the room with a knife. I cock my hip out a little to make sure that Clint can see the boxers and raise an eyebrow at them with a lazy grin on my face. 

“Hello boys – miss me?” I take a mouthful of scotch, trying to stay composed and not just run across the room and throw myself at them. 10 days is way too long to go without them and I intend to never let it happen again if I can help it. The silence between the three of us stretches on and my nerves double as neither of them say anything. 

“Erm.....,” God you're an idiot I think to myself as I search frantically for something witty and sexy to say rather than just looking like a stuttering idiot. “You just gonna stand there all night? Kinda winging it here guys.” 

Clint answers that by dropping the bags and his bow and crossing the room in just a few steps to kiss me so fiercely that it completely steals the breath from my lungs. I can't help but throw my arms around his neck and he grabs my ass to prompt me into hopping up and wrapping my legs around his waist. Its all teeth and tongue and I can't help groaning into his mouth at how demanding he is. His fingers dig into the flesh at the top of my thighs and I know its going to bruise. As filthy as his hair is, I bury a hand in it, pulling hard and he exhales sharply across my cheek, wrapping his arms as tight as he dares around me. We have to pull apart when breathing becomes necessary and I rest my forehead against his. 

“Hi,” I grin shakily at him, tugging on his hair again so I can see his whole face. He's got a cut across one cheek and his whole face is smeared with dirt. There are dark circles under his eyes and he stinks of sweat, blood and hours of fighting and it's the best smell there is. 

“Hey,” He replies with a small, soft smile, his voice a little shaky. 

“You OK?” 

“Am now,” Clint says with a small laugh giving me a squeeze. He shifts to the right and puts me down on the kitchen counter so he doesn't have to hold me up. I'm by no means big but I must weigh a fair bit to someone that clearly hasn't slept for a fair while and looks about ready to face-plant into bed. He sags against me and buries his face in my neck, breathing in and humming happily before mumbling against my skin: “Feel free to welcome us home dressed like this whenever you like.” 

Phil appears to my left and I throw out an arm to grab him by his tie and pull him in to me. He looks world weary and his eyelids are drooping but there's a hunger in those grey eyes and my heart skips a beat as I remember what he said to me on the phone last night, causing a shiver to ripple through my body. I lick my lips and tug playfully on his tie until he gives in and leans into the kiss that I've been silently asking for. He takes his time, relearning my lips before asking me to open up by sliding his tongue along my bottom lip. I do so willingly and he deepens the kiss before nipping lazily at my lips with his teeth. I sigh happily as he pulls away but he only goes far enough to be able to look into my eyes. The hand that's not tangled in Phil's tie is threading fingers through Clint's hair as he trails tiny kisses up my neck. Phil brings up a hand to finger the collar of his shirt that I'm wearing, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Suits you perfectly,” Phil purrs, tracing a finger along the collarbone that's exposed as the shirt slips off my shoulder slightly. “It's one of my favourites. Which I now won't be able to wear around HQ without thinking of you underneath it.” 

I bite my lip and look at him through my lashes, feigning innocence. His eyes darken and he closes the distance between us once more to take my lips in a bruising kiss. I whimper against him, burning at the forcefulness as Clint continues to mouth at my neck, his teeth scraping against my pulse. We continue for a few long, delicious moments, a tangle of hands and lips getting to know each other until Phil pulls away again. I chase after his mouth, frowning as he gets further away. 

Phil laughs huskily as I pout at him. “We're both filthy so I think that a shower is in order.” I shake my head at him and make a needy noise, pulling on his tie again. “Patience gorgeous girl. I'm sure you don't want to get all that pretty skin covered in our dirt and grime.” 

“Don't care,” I murmur as Clint licks across my shoulder, nudging the shirt out the way with his nose. “Just.....don't care. Want you. Now.” 

“And you'll have us my sweet, just let us get cleaned up first,” Phil insists and I whine at him as he moves away. Clint taps my hip and I tighten my legs around him as he lifts me up off the counter as if I weigh nothing before striding towards the bedroom to place me delicately on the end of the bed. He straightens up to look at me, his eyes all pupils and I reach out a hand to thread my fingers through one of the many straps of his tac vest to try and get him to follow me down onto the bed. He resists and my pout is back when I don't get what I want. Phil appears being him, his hands finding Clint's hips and pulling him back against him. Clint goes willingly and bares his neck to Phil who obliges by nuzzling at the cord of muscle that stands out there. 

“How are your ribs now Lissy?” Clint breathes as Phil sucks an earlobe between his lips. 

“Fine. Barely an ache at all now so you don't have to treat me like I'll break,” I mutter but I'm secretly pleased that they both take my well-being so seriously. I tuck my knees underneath me on the bed and kneel up so that I can start unzipping Clint's field vest, something that I've had to do more times than I care to remember out in the field so I could get at a wound. Now though, I can take my time and reveal each bit of him slowly, pressing a kiss to every patch of skin. I bring my head up to watch Phil and Clint together and yeah, that's really fucking hot. 

“I said it before and I'll say it again – you two totally have to let me watch you both together at some point,” I growl as Phil sinks his teeth into Clint's neck forcing a moan from deep in Clint's chest. 

“How would you like to be bound, gagged and forced to watch?” Phil says as he licks the teeth marks he just left on Clint's skin and both of groan at that thought. “All you'll be able to do is watch whilst I take Clint apart in front of you. You won't be able to touch us or yourself, you'll just have to sit there and watch. You won't even be able to say anything because you'll have a mouth full of one of my ties that you seem to fond of wrinkling. Would you like that Darklis? Would you like to watch and not be able to do anything about it?” 

My mouth is dry by the time Phil has finished talking and all I can is nod because yes, I want that. Oh do I want that. He seems satisfied by that though and makes a pleased little humming sound in the back of his throat. Leaning back to look at the bruise he's made to Clint's neck, Phil turns him in his arms and kisses him forcefully using his hands at Clint's hips to pull him flush against him. I'm lost in the sight of both of them for what seems like blissful hours, quite happy to watch them until the sun comes up. It's like my wettest dream and they're both fully clothed still. Phil eventually breaks the kiss and Clint whimpers at the loss. 

“Into the shower with you,” Phil nudges Clint towards the bathroom and he hurries off, discarding his uniform as he goes leaving a trail on the way to the bathroom door. Phil then turns his attention onto me and I get up onto my knees so that I can pull him towards me again. “Let me see your ribs.” 

I pull up the right side of the shirt and Phil kneels to inspect the fading bruises there, ghosting his fingers over my skin as I hear the shower start up. I make a pleased noise when Phil lowers his head to my side and leaves a trail of tiny kisses over the bruises that remain, making his way slowly down and across to my stomach, his lips soft and forcing a delighted shiver from me. He brings both his hands up to settle against my hips, thumbs rubbing circles where my hips disappear underneath Clint's boxers. He breathes hotly against my navel and I bring my hand up to run through his hair. 

“These are ridiculous,” He huffs against my stomach as he pulls at the side of the bright purple boxers and I laugh as I feel him smile against my skin. 

“Well, he's your boyfriend. You telling me you didn't know he had something this ludicrous in his underwear drawer? I kinda like 'em. ” 

“They do look very fetching on you,” Phil laughs throatily as he runs his fingers under the waistband, his gun callouses catching on my skin. A small moan escapes my lips as he sucks a bruise just under my navel, marking me and I'm hoping that it won't be the only mark he leaves on my skin tonight. In the morning I want to be covered in bruises and teeth marks from both of them. Phil straightens up, sliding his hands up under the shirt as he does so, his fingers splaying out until they come to rest just under my breasts. His thumbs brush at the sensitive skin at the top of my ribcage and I feel my nipples harden instantly as goosebumps break out under his touch. Moving his hands around to my back, he coaxes me into lying down, my legs hanging over the end of the bed as he kneels on the floor in between them. He runs his hands down my side again, spreading out his fingers and it feels like he's mapping every part of me with his hands and his eyes. He drifts lower, over the boxers and down over my thighs, slipping a hand under a thigh and slowly lifting it up so that he can press a kiss to the inside of my knee. My breath hitches at how soft the touch is and he trails his lips upwards, leaving butterfly kisses up the inside of my thigh until he gets to the apex. Then he does the same on the other side, all the while his eyes never leaving mine as I prop myself up on my elbows so I can watch him. When he's done with the other side, he straightens up again, fixing me with that gaze of his that has me squirming under the weight of it until I almost can't bare it. I'm amazed that my clothes haven't spontaneously burst into flames under the heat of his eyes. 

“Up against the pillows,” He says finally, his voice a low purr and I scoot back as fast as I can, settling back against the enormous pile of pillows. Phil stands and watches as I rearrange myself, using my eyes to beckon him to me. He starts to take off his suit jacket but I stop him. 

“Leave it on,” I tell him, my voice low and not sure how he'll react to me telling him what to do. Delightfully, he gives me a wry smile and obliges by shrugging back into his jacket. He takes a moment to take in my flushed skin and how the shirt I'm wearing has fallen off one shoulder slightly more before kneeling on the bed and crawling up towards me like an enormous cat. Not many people would use the word slinky to describe Phil Coulson but that's exactly what he's doing right now: slinking towards me fully clothed in one of his gorgeous suits. He doesn't stop until he's braced over me, hands holding him up either side of my head and his knees tucked up against my hips. He gazes down at me for a few moments, drinking in the sight of me until I can't take it any more and grab his tie again to try and pull him down for a kiss. He comes willingly, meeting my lips as I strain upwards, desperate for it. The hand that doesn't have hold of his tie slides down his back trying to coax him into lowering himself onto me as I have a sudden need to feel his suit against any bare bit of skin it can touch. He indulges me and I keen at the feel of the expensive fabric against my legs and midriff. I move my legs out from underneath him and wrap them around his thighs until he's resting in the cradle of my hips and rock up against him, forcing a delicious groan from him. With a hand in his hair, I force out lips harder together, wanting him closer, needing him closer. Everything he said to me last night is running through my head and he swallows the moan that illicits from me. I want him naked, skin against skin but I also want him to keep the suit on so I can fuel my fantasy of having him undo me whilst still fully clothed. He pulls back for air and I'm not ashamed of the tiny mewl I make at the loss of his lips on mine. 

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Phil pants slightly, the grey of his irises almost completely obscured by his pupils. 

“I've got an idea, _sir,_ ” I smirk, rocking my hips up against him and _there's_ what I want, pressed hard against my hip. He shifts his weight onto one arm so that he can lean away slightly and bring a hand up to my collarbone and pushing the shirt away slightly to expose even more skin. He slowly moves his hands down to the few buttons that are done up and begins to deftly undo them before pushing both sides of the shirt away and leaving me completely exposed. My breath catches as he splays his hand out and covers one of my breasts completely, holding it in his hand reverently. I've always been sensitive there and when he bends down to take the nipple in his mouth, I cry out at the feeling, all wet heat like a brand on my skin. He expertly flicks his tongue against the peak before ever so gently rolling it in his teeth before letting go and blowing cold air over it. 

“You're charmingly responsive little one,” Phil hums almost to himself before flattening his tongue against the entire nipple to rip another moan from me. My hand tightens in his hair so he does it again and again until I almost can't breathe. He does the same to the other side and this time, I arch up against him, my ribs a dull ache but I don't take any notice. How can I when I have a fully clothed Phil Coulson in between my legs treating my breasts like they're the only thing in his world right now? 

“I wonder just how responsive you are?” He murmurs as his hand snakes down my body, over Clint's boxers I reward him by arching up into his hand, desperate for the briefs to be gone so I can feel those rough fingers inside me. He teases me through the material for long, torturous minutes until I reach down and try to push the offending article down my hips and off. He stops me with a hand on mine and I whine frustratedly at his seemingly endless patience. I glare at him and a smile tugs at the edges of his mouth as he never takes his eyes from mine. Then suddenly his fingers are dipping under the boxers and _oh fuck yes....._ I gasp as clever fingers slide lower, parting my wet folds in one motion. And I was right: his fingers have just the amount of roughness to send sparks through my entire body make me shudder underneath him. Then, praise Odin, he finds my clit and starts an exquisitely slow circling of the sensitive nub with a finger, enough pressure to slowly begin building the fire low in my belly for what I'm pretty sure is going to be an absolutely earth shattering orgasm. It's good, but it's not enough. 

“Please sir....I need.....just..... _please_ ,” I plead, not really knowing what I want, I just know I need more. I clutch at his suit jacket, tugging him closer, needing to kiss him, needing more of him. His kiss is as maddeningly slow and leisurely as what his fingers are currently doing and if he keeps going at this pace, he's going to take me apart piece by piece excruciatingly slowly and make sure that I feel every second of it. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.....” I hadn't even noticed that I couldn't hear the shower any more until Clint's voice drifts over the sound of my moans. “If I'd known you'd started without me I would have got out of the shower a lot fucking sooner.” Suddenly he's there next to me, still damp from the shower, towel barely clinging to his hips as he stretches out next to me, pressed close and I sigh into Phil's mouth. _This_ is what I've been wanting and missing for the last 10 days. 

“Just getting her warmed up for you specialist,” Phil chuckles a little breathlessly when he pulls away for air. I'm starting to find the amount of whining I'm doing around these two a little embarrassing every time Phil pulls away but I'm pretty sure I'm getting past the point of caring. Clint trails his fingers across my chest, pausing at each nipple to give them a light pinch causing my back to arch as Phil keeps up his slow pace against my clit, both of them drawing more moans from me. Clint's hand travels lower, goosebumps being left in his wake before his hand slips under the boxers and joins Phil's hand. “I'll leave you in Clint's more than capable hands beautiful girl. I need to go and wash the mission off me.” 

He pulls away, disentangling my fingers from his tie and takes the hand I stretch out to him making grabby motions. “Sshh, I'll be back soon my sweet. Now, let Clint take care of you.” And with that, he's up off the bed and heading into the bathroom. 

“Stop pouting,” Clint snickers and wipes the frown off my face by slipping two fingers inside me making me gasp and arch towards him. “There ya go. Fuck Lissy, you're so wet. You've really got a hard on for the Boss huh?” 

“Sh...shut the fuck up Barton,” I hiss through my teeth as he curls his fingers, hitting that spot inside me with startling accuracy. Well, he's not called the World's Greatest Marksman for nothing I guess. 

“Oooo, feisty tonight huh Agent Pussy?” He punctuates the work 'pussy' by twisting his fingers in a way that has me writhing against the pillows. I growl at him for the nickname but it just makes him laugh, deep and rusty. And I shouldn't be surprised by the fact that he's just as mouthy in the bedroom as he is everywhere else. He grins at me from where he's propped up on his elbow next to me and it's hard to stay mad at that face, it really is. 

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me,” I grin back and he does, all heat and the wet slide of tongue. He pulls his fingers out and finds my clit, setting a faster pace than Phil did which is doing nothing stop the building flames somewhere in my lower abdomen. My hands are trying to find some sort of purchase against Clint's shower damp skin and settle for tangling in his hair instead which is still wet. God, everything about this man makes me want to eat him alive. He's the fire and urgency to Phil's patient authority and it's a heady mix. I don't know how I'm going to handle both of them when Phil has finished his shower. Pretty sure I'm going to die a very happy woman by the end of the night. 

“As much as I love these boxers, I think it's time you weren't wearing them,” Clint purrs when he breaks the kiss. I can't get them off fast enough and he throws them off somewhere in the room. I tug at his shoulder and he moves so that he's lying over me, slotting between my legs like be belongs there. I roll my hips against him with a smirk and his eyes darken impossibly more. “ _Fuck_.....Don't tempt me.” 

“To do what?” 

“Have you any idea how much I want to fuck you into this mattress right now?” 

“So do it.” 

“Not yet.” 

“Fucking tease.” 

“I'll show you fucking tease.....,” Clint grins and gives me a fast and dirty kiss before drawing away to start licking and biting down my jaw and my neck before carrying on down my neck, bypassing my breasts completely and settling between my legs and licking his lips. He looks up and meets my eyes with a smirk. I look back, lids heavy and thighs twitching in anticipation. Clint lowers his head to the inside of a thigh, never taking his yes from mine and slowly trails kisses upwards. My breath hitches as he creeps higher until he switches legs and does the same up the other side. I can feel his hot breath between my legs as he hovers over me, and I glare silently at him to stop teasing me and just fucking _do it_ already. “Had enough yet?” 

I give him a growl and he flattens his tongue and gives me a long swipe starting at the bottom of my pussy up to my clit. A moan from both of us punctuates the heavy air of the room and he does it again, this time pausing to swirl his tongue around my clit, my thighs jumping and my hands gripping the sheets either side of me. 

“Fuck Lissy, you taste _so fucking good....”_ Clint breathes against me. 

“Yeah?” 

“Fuck yeah,” And Clint just goes to town. I didn't think it was humanly possible for _anyone_ to be doing the kind of things he's doing with his right now but _holy shit_. Phil wasn't wrong when he sung the praises of Clint and his tongue last night. All that precision and razor sharp focus doesn't just apply to his marksmanship because he is fucking _nailing it_ right now. Within minutes I'm a writhing, panting mess against the sheets and my hands fly to grab his hair and pull him away with a cry – I don't want this to be over just yet. 

“Let go Darklis, I want to see you,” Phil's rasping voice comes from the end of the bed and how long has he been standing there watching? I prise my eyes open to see him standing there, towel around his waist just drinking in the sight of Clint taking me apart with his mouth. I take in the sight of his beautiful, scarred torso and possessive, hungry eyes and I'm so fucking done. My climax slams into me like a fucking freight train, practically screaming into the heated air of the room, eyes screwed shut and body arching up off the bed. I can't stop my thighs tightening around Clint's head and I'm pretty sure he's going to suffocate, which may bring a whole new meaning to the nickname Agent Pussy. Although, Clint would probably find it eternally hilarious if he died by having his air supply cut off whilst eating someone out. 

When I eventually start to float back down, I pull insistently on Clint's hair and he crawls back up my body, letting me pull him in for a lazy, sloppy kiss so I can lick the taste of myself out of his mouth. His hips are rocking against my thigh and I don't think he even realises that he's doing it. I trail a hand down his back and tug at the towel that is somehow still clinging to his waist. But it's not Clint that pulls the damp thing away, it's Phil. I then have a very naked Clint Barton cradled in between my thighs and doesn't that just feel like the most delicious thing ever? He's all muscle and heat and perfection and I can't help rolling my hips up against him, forcing a groan out of him and he drops his forehead to my shoulder. 

“Did you enjoy that beautiful girl?” Phil almost whispers from his vantage point at the end of the bed. I tear myself away from Clint long enough to nod and Phil just looks too fucking good to not have my hands on him right now. Coaxing Clint off me, I kneel and start to take off the shirt that I'm still wearing. 

“Don't,” Phil growls and I stop with the shirt halfway down my arms. “I like seeing you in my shirt.” And it's the most possessive tone I've heard him use yet which sends a shiver down my spine. I pull the shirt back up and on before getting on all fours and crawling towards Phil at the end of the bed. When I'm in front of him, I get up on my knees to face him. I look at him from under my lashes, wry smile on my lips and he cups my face with both hands, searching my eyes with his. “You looked so good fucking yourself on Clint's tongue like that. So gorgeous.” 

I moan at that, bringing my hands up to Phil's chest, my fingers tracing the enormous scar left by Loki's sceptre. I feel a pang of sudden sadness as I remember how we all felt when we thought we'd lost him. I remember Clint being utterly broken and not being able to understand why he was so much more lost than the rest of us. Now I know that it was because they were together. Clint had not only lost his handler but he'd lost his lover too. I feel tears prick at my eyes when I remember how empty and helpless Clint's beautiful eyes had been, how much his will had been broken. I know that he still blames himself, still thinks that it was his fault that Phil had died. And damn these thoughts for pushing their way into tonight. 

“Hey, it's OK little one, I'm here,” Phil soothes as if he can read my mind. His thumbs smooth across my cheeks as he tips my face up to his. Even as I place my palms against his chest, even though I can feel him real and alive under my hands, I still feel that sadness. “I'll have none of those thoughts tonight, not here, not between the three of us.” I nod sadly at him and blink the tears away. His eyes have softened though and I give him a weak smile. The moment has been broken and I could kick myself for letting something so dark and sad into this room tonight. What a fucking idiot. 

Clint is suddenly behind me, pressing against my back, gloriously naked and being sandwiched between the pair of them immediately relaxes me and I let my head fall back against Clint's shoulder with a sigh. He takes advantage of having access to my neck and starts nibbling along my jugular until a smile plays on my lips again. My hands are still exploring Phil's chest, mapping every scar and committing it to memory. Phil tips my head up further and then proceeds to kiss me stupid. No seriously, actually stupid. Any coherent thought I may have had are rendered utterly useless as his lips and tongue mark me as his. How does he do it? How does he manage to strip me bare with just a kiss? He's a fucking sex ninja, I bloody well knew it! He must be able to taste me still thanks to Clint because he hums approvingly at the back of his throat as he suckles on my tongue a little before pulling back slightly to nibble on my bottom lip. God I want him. I want both of them more than I've ever wanted anyone or anything in my life. With Clint completely naked and me wearing nothing but a shirt, I decide that Phil is wearing far too much. I start to untuck the towel around his waist and he doesn't stop me. It slithers to the floor and there he is. I lean back slightly so that I can rake my eyes over his body and my, my, Agent Coulson is packing. My mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and jutting out slightly and I want to know what he tastes like. I want it stuffed down my throat until I can't breathe while he fucks my face. I can't take my eyes off it and I hear Phil chuckle from somewhere as my entire world narrows down to just his dick as I watch it twitch slightly under my gaze. 

“I think she found her favourite thing Boss,” Clint laughs from behind me as Phil is apparently trying to talk to me and I'm not listening. I don't even ask permission, I just bring a hand up to wrap around that beautiful cock and give it one stroke from root to tip and fuck he feels amazing: like velvet and authority. Can a cock even feel authoritative? If anyone's dick can, it's Coulson's. 

“Fuck, I want you in my mouth,” And it sounds like I'm begging, which I guess I am as I look up at Phil whilst I leisurely continue to stroke his cock. “Can I sir? Can I have your cock?” A moan escapes Phil's lips as I punctuate the 'sir' with a particularly wicked twist of my wrist. 

“Yeah, can she? I wanna see that. See her pretty lips wrapped around your cock,” Clint rasps behind me and I can't help sticking my backside out a little to grind against his own rather impressive erection. My mind momentarily short circuits at the rather sudden, ableit rather late, realisation that yes, I do in fact have both of them naked in a bedroom with me. Why it's taken me so long to come to that realisation I shall blame on the last of the painkillers in my system and the fact that Clint's hands are on me again. This time one hand is snaking around my middle and making it's way south. The other hand has made it's way under the front of the shirt and is teasing my nipples, pinching and rolling each one in turn between his fingers. His other hand has found it's mark (of course he never misses) and is slowly working my clit at a pace that is going to make my second climax build and build. Feeling Clint's unbelievable arms wrapped around me just adds another layer of hotness to the current situation and I can't help moaning loudly, thinking that this is actually my life. If not for the long term then at least for tonight, this is my life. What the fuck did I do to get so lucky? 

“First things first,” Phil says and he's all business which shouldn't be a turn on considering that he's clearly about to say something important. “You know that being S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents means that all three of us are tested routinely as standard. We're all clean but if you want to use condoms Darklis, that's more than acceptable.” 

I shake my head with a gasp as Clint slips two fingers inside me as if to prove a point. I know they're both clean, as am I and I want to be able to feel _everything_. 

“And as much as I want to mark you on the inside, make you my property, if you don't want us to , we won't, hence the condoms,” He slides two fingers into my mouth and I suck on them greedily as he slowly drags them in and out. And if he carries on talking about marking and property, Clint's fingers are going to be more than enough. 

“No, w....want to feel you,” I manage to stutter out as Clint crooks his fingers just so and I'm almost sobbing. “Just....I.....fuck, _Clint_.....I want...... _please_ sir can I suck your cock? N...need it....” 

“Think you'd better let her have what she wants Phil,” Clint sniggers as his fingers return to my clit. I lock Phil's eyes with my own, pleading with him and he nods with an amused smirk at how desperate I am. I don't give a fuck if he wants me to beg: I'll do it if it gets me what I want. I don't need to told twice and immediately lean forwards, wet my lips and take the head of Phil's cock between my lips, dipping my tongue into the slit to greedily lick up the beads of pre-cum that have gathered there. _Fuck,_ he tastes amazing and I groan around him as I slowly sink down as far as I can until I can get my throat muscles to remember how this works. Using both my hands to steady myself against Phil's hips, I go to work. I've never been an overly enthusiastic fan of sucking cock but Phil has just changed my mind completely. I could quite happily do this until my jaw seizes up and falls off. He's heavy and hard on my tongue which I flatten to drag up the underside before swirling my tongue around the head. I swallow him down a little further this time, my throat finally getting with the programme and opening up some more. I'm determined to have him all the way down my throat before I'm done with him so I fight my gag reflex with each downward motion. 

Clint's hand that was on my breasts is now on the inside of one of my thighs, gently coaxing me to spread my legs wider, which I do, sticking my ass out to arch my back downward towards the mattress. It must make me look utterly wanton because the noise that Clint makes doesn't even sound human. The hand that he had snaked around my front moves behind and he slides his fingers back inside, his other hand gripping an ass cheek. I know what Clint is thinking so I grip Phil's hips tighter in anticipation, all the while managing to take more and more of Phil's cock down my throat. I hollow my cheeks on the next downward stroke until my lips meet the coarse hairs at the base of his cock. I still for a moment, revelling in the feeling of my mouth and throat being so full that I can't breathe and my eyes are watering. I moan around him, throat muscles fluttering as I fight my gag reflex and win. Phil brings a hand down so he can feel his dick in my throat and that forces a groan to rumble up from his chest. Just before my vision starts to go a little hazy from lack of oxygen, Phil's fingers are in my hair, pulling me back and off his cock. I whimper at the loss, my lips swollen and wet with spit and pre-cum, my tongue straining to lick at the head as Phil holds me by the hair, just out of reach. 

“Is that what you want little one? You want to choke on my cock?” Phil asks, gravel in his voice. 

“Fuck yes....” And god my voice already sounds wrecked. 

“Yes what?” 

“Fuck yes _sir_...” 

And with that, Phil thrusts his cock back in my mouth and starts fucking my throat just as Clint slides into me from behind. So full. So very full and fuck do I feel like a cock slut right now. I've got my mouth full of Phil and my cunt is wonderfully full of Clint. Phil holds his dick as far down my throat as he can get whilst Clint buries himself to the hilt, holding himself there so that I can feel just how full I am. The only way I could be fuller is if I had something up my ass too. Before I start to white out around the edges, they both start moving, Clint setting a strong, steady pace behind me and Phil thrusting in every time Clint pushes me forwards. The room is soon full of the sounds of all three of us grunting and moaning, sweat starting to cover my body in a thin sheen. Clint is gripping my hips so hard that there'll be bruises come morning and Phil has one hand tangled in my hair and one loosely wrapped around my throat so that he can feel my muscles working. 

“Fuck Phil, you need to feel this. She's so tight and wet, feels fucking amazing,” Clint growls on a particularly hard thrust that forces Phil further down my throat. My hands have Phil's hips in a vice like grip to stop me from falling head first into his stomach and my legs are straining to keep me upright. “So perfect, so good. Fuck Lissy you feel so good. Does it feel good, having Phil's cock down your throat gorgeous? You like that?” 

My mother always taught me never to talk with my mouthful so I just groan around Phil's cock, drool starting to dribble down my chin, mixing with the tears running down my cheeks as I continue to fight not to gag. It feels so fucking good I could cry. Clint speeds up, snapping his hips forward with such force that I start to choke around Phil's cock. He pulls my head back by my hair again and I drag air into my lungs, heaving a little but whining at the loss. 

“Look at you,” Phil grates out as he takes a hold of his dick and rubs the head back and forth against my lips, my tongue chasing after him, desperate to keep tasting him. “So beautiful with your lips all swollen and bruised. Does it feel good, Clint fucking your pretty little pussy?” 

My throat is so wrecked that all I can manage is a rough moan at Phil's words. He holds me up while Clint continues to pound into me, watching him over my shoulder and I know that they've locked eyes with each other from the look on Phil's face. With a hand on each shoulder, Phil pushes me upright until I'm more or less sitting in Clint's lap to give my straining thighs a break. Clint settles back onto his heels, using his thighs to spread me wider and slides his arms up and under my shoulders to pull me back against him, my arms scrabbling for purchase on his hips behind me. It means that I'm spread open and wide for Phil and he watches hungrily for a moment as Clint slides in and out of me. He then wastes no time in getting a knee on the bed and ducking his head to tease a nipple into his mouth, flicking and rolling it with his tongue before biting down gently and forcing a cry from me. He teases my other nipple with those wonderfully calloused fingers and I can feel my orgasm rushing upwards again. Phil uses his free hand to reach down and start teasing my clit before pulling away to look me in the eyes. It sends a jolt through my entire body at the heat in those grey eyes and I can't help the keening noise that escapes me. 

“Cum for me little one. Cum on Clint's cock for me, show me how beautiful you are,” Phil purrs and I'm gone. My orgasm rips through me, Phil and Clint's names a sob on my lips and tears in my eyes as Clint slows and fucks me through it, hips stuttering a little when I clench round him. 

“Jesus Lissy,” Clint gasps as the aftershocks roll through me, making me clamp down on him more. Phil kneels down on the floor, lowers his head and runs his tongue over where Clint and I are still joined, lapping up my juices on Clint's cock every time he slowly pulls out of me a little. It's possibly one of the filthiest, most erotic thing I've ever seen. That is until Clint pulls out completely and Phil swallows him down all the way to the base. 

“Jesus _fuck_.....” Is all I manage to rasp out, my throat still completely fucked out and I can't take my eyes off him. Phil alternates between licking me from Clint's cock and using his tongue to greedily lave at my now swollen folds. Clint's arms are trembling around me and I know he's close. That and the fact that every expletive known to man is currently spilling from his mouth. 

“Fuck Phil....just...your fucking _mouth_...so close......just... _fuck.....”_ Clint stutters behind me, his hips thrusting into Phil's mouth as he takes all of him in again. Looking down my body, I watch with hazy eyes as Phil swallows around Clint's cock again, hollowing his cheeks and dragging more filthy language from the younger man. I'm too fucked out to help but it doesn't look like Phil's needs it so I keep watching as Phil's clever tongue and seemingly non-existant gag reflex drive Clint to the edge. And then he tumbling over, teeth sinking into my shoulder as he shouts and cums down Phil's throat, who takes it all, swallowing hard and fast. 

Clint slumps against my back, panting and sweaty as Phil licks up every last drop before giving the head of Clint's cock a sweet little kiss (far too sweet for what we're doing) and sitting back on his heels. 

“Think I need to lie down,” Clint laughs lazily behind me. I can't help joining in and soon we're both giggling, unable to stop. Clint slowly drags me backwards until he's propped up against the pillows at the head of the bed and I'm lying back against him. He reaches around me and spreads my legs leaving me completely on show for Phil. His hands start to stroke over my chest and sides, his movements lazy in his sated state. Phil, who has remained what must be painful hard through it all, crawls up the bed until he's settled on his elbows between my legs. He must know that I have to be over sensitive by now because when he lowers his head, he's more gentle than I ever thought possible. Each barely there swipe of his tongue makes me twitch and I grab at Clint's thighs, which isn't easy given how covered in sweat we both are. 

“How you doing kiddo?” Clint asks behind me, his hands soothing each time Phil's tongue sends a spark through my body. “Think you can take Phil's cock?” 

“Fuck yes,” I gasp as Phil teases my overly sensitive clit and yeah, I'll be cumming again tonight if I've got anything to do with it. 

“You sure little one? Because we can stop right now if its too much,” Phil murmurs against the sensitive skin at the inside of the top of my thigh. 

“No, w...want you in me,” I whimper as Clint starts to nibble at my neck again. And I'm sure that the skin there must now be a patchwork of bruises. “Please sir, n...need to f...feel you.” Phil grins against my thigh and with one last swipe of his tongue, sits up and moves in. Clint pulls my legs up with a hand under each thigh and if I looked open and wanton before then I must look downright slutty now: knees pulled up to my shoulders and moaning like a whore. Phil teases me some more by taking himself in hand and rubbing the head of his cock lightly against my clit and yeah, enough of the fucking teasing: “Please..... _please_ sir....just f....fuck me already, need to feel you.” 

Phil doesn't say anything, just puts his free hand forward on Clint's shoulder and slides in with one, smooth motion. I arch up towards him, nails digging into Clint's thighs and a moan rips through me from somewhere deep inside. Phil stays buried inside me for a few moments, the air filled with all three of us panting and my occasional moans. Then he sets a brutal pace, pounding into me and fuck is it good. He seems to know that despite the fact that I'm completely wiped out already, I need it hard and fast. My vision is whiting out again and I'm starting to float away in a haze of completely fucked out bliss. I don't even register that Clint's is muttering all sorts of filth in my ear as Phil fucks me into the mattress. This is what I wanted: both of them with me and Sir making me his own. His dick feels like nothing else and he's claiming me, making me his, making me Clint's. He's letting me know that I'm theirs for as long as want it. And I do want it. I want it so badly that I feel tears threatening again. Clint continues to stroke my overheated, sweat covered skin and soon, Phil's hips start to stutter and his eyes find mine. 

“Darklis?” Phil's voice is floating somewhere around me and I try finding my way back to it. I didn't realise that I'd closed my eyes until I open them and Phil is there, searching my eyes. “With me?” It's a question rather than an order and I nod, Clint's hands finding my nipples and pinching hard. 

“Now beautiful girl, with me,” And I'm gone again, the sharp pain of Clint's fingers and Phil cumming hard inside me. I come apart completely, clamping down hard around Phil's cock and my nails drawing blood from Clint's thighs as they dig in. The noise that rips out of Phil is deep and primal and a secondary climax rocks through me, chasing the first just at the sound of that noise. 

Phil eventually slumps forward onto me and Clint's lets go of my legs so that I can wrap them around Phil's panting form. And then I can't stop them: the tears that have been threatening suddenly come spilling out with a sob and I can't stop them. Clint's arms tighten around me and Phil's head comes up from where it was resting on my chest. 

“Baby, what's wrong?” Clint sounds a little panicked and wriggles out from underneath me. They both hover over me, worried looks on their faces and it makes me sob harder that I put those looks there. “Shit! Phil, what......” 

“Darklis?” Phil cuts gently across Clint and brings a hand to my cheek. “Darklis sweetheart, look at me.” When that doesn't work he uses his Agent tone: “Darklis, look at me, now.” 

I blink away the tears and find them both pressed against either side of me, propped up on elbows and still looking worried. 

“Too much?” Phil asks softly, a thumb tracing over my swollen bottom lip. 

“A....a bit. But in a good way,” I sniff and Clint visibly relaxes. 

“Oh thank fuck for that,” Clint says, clearly relieved. “I thought we'd broken you.”

“Well, you kinda did, but in a very, _very_ good way,” I give him a watery smile and tug him down to me. He buries his face in my neck and I tug Phil down to do the same thing. We lie there for what feels like hours, a tangle of sweaty limbs and occasional sated sighs. Eventually, Phil stirs and tries to sit up. 

“Where are you going?” I grumble at him, pawing at his back to get him to come back. 

“I think we all need another shower,” Phil chuckles lightly, running a finger down my leg as he looks over his shoulder and Clint and I. “And the two of us haven't eaten since we left base this morning.” 

“Then we're all getting in the shower together,” Clint yawns, snuggling closer and yeah, I'm never going to hate the fact that he's a cuddler. Ever. “I dunno about you, but after that, I don't want either of you more than about 4 inches away from me.” 

Phil smiles fondly at Clint, a smile that has so much love in it that it makes my heart ache. 

“Agreed. Come on then Hawkass,” I sit up and give Clint a playful slap on his perfect behind. 

“Don't start that,” Clint moans, his hips thrusting against my thigh. “I don't have the energy for round two yet, you insatiable minx.” 

I laugh and Phil offers me his hand to help me off the bed. I grab Clint with my other hand and we all head for the bathroom. I ask JARVIS to order take-out on the way and after a shower spent lazily washing each other and sated kisses, we end up eating pizza on the bed. Clint was right, neither one of us want to be further than touching distance apart and once the pizza is gone, we're falling back against the pillows once more, all clad in pjs and wrapped around each other. Just as we're dropping off to sleep, Clint remembers something. 

“Hey Lissy?” 

“Sshhh, m'sleepin,” 

“That bet you made with Stark......” 

“Hmmmm?” 

“He wants proof, doesn't he?” 

“Yup,” I yawn. 

“Got an idea,” Clint answers before rearranging us on the bed so that he and Phil are facing each other. I catch on with a grin and reach over and tug at their t shirts. They pull them up and off and I muss up their hair some more before reaching for my phone. 

“Ready?” 

“Yup,” Clint answers and then gives Phil a downright filthy kiss. I lean in behind Clint, naked from the waist up and snap the picture. “Did you get it?”

I look at the picture and snigger – it's perfect. I'm looking impossibly smug behind Clint while they both look like they've gone at each other for a few hours. Which technically, they have. I send it to Tony and snuggle against Clint's back. He reaches behind, grumbling and pulls until I clamber over him to settle back between them. Clint pushes me over to face Phil and presses himself against my back, his face buried in my neck again and my head pillowed against Phil's shoulder. As sleep slowly creeps up on us, I feel happy, sated and safe. I listen to the steady rhythm of them both breathing and smile. This is where I belong, with both of them. And its going to take some time to work out how we all fit together but it feels good and right. I sigh happily and snuggle closer to Phil, two sets of arms tightening around me. Yeah, this is fucking perfect.

 

********

 

In the morning, there's a bottle of Strathisla outside the bedroom door with a 50 dollar bill tucked underneath it.

 


End file.
